


Die, My Darling

by vampirexchild



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 1920s, Angst and Porn, Assassins & Hitmen, Bottom Frank Iero, But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Crossdressing, Dark Past, False Identity, Fight Sex, Gun Violence, Hand Jobs, Hate to Love, Knifeplay, Love/Hate, M/M, Minor Character Death, Serial Killers, Smoking, Top Gerard Way, gerard is a softie for frank, minor pain kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 09:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17916185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirexchild/pseuds/vampirexchild
Summary: Gerard, otherwise known as the Angel of Revenge, is a notorious hitman providing his business to the scum hidden in the suburbs of 1920's New York. When he's met with a challenge in the form of a beautiful serial killer taking the stage names of both Francine and the Black Widow, he realizes he'd never felt truly alive until the moment he laid eyes on the fierce serial killer with depth he never imagined lying underneath the diamonds and skin tight dress.





	1. Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this, I tried my best to do what I've envisioned justice. It's different from what I've done in the past, I know that I was happy while writing it. Welcome to Die, My Darling, an idea that's been simmering in the back drawers of my unorganized mind for far too long, it almost feels I've been depriving you all of this. Buckle in!
> 
> ALSO I should specify that Frank is not an actual woman here despite what the first part is about!

**NEW YORK CITY, 1925**

 

Nicotine had a particularly joyous smell to those captivated by the bitterness, filled with desire to consume it during the leisure of the city at night. Tendrils of smoke rose into the air and coalesced with the drawn out puffs making the same route, blanketing the atmosphere with a film of smog batted away by lazy hands clutching onto cigars and thin cigarettes, either unknowing or uncaring that they only added to the supply by doing so. In the dimly lit room, the sound of a woman clad in a bejeweled corset and furs singing to the rhythm of seductive piano could be heard as though she was right beside the group of men gathered around a round table, her voice emitting from between her lipstick painted mouth. It was clear she sang for the scum of New York, the rich and the sadistic, those soaked in either blood or come by the end of the evening and resting in the slums when it came to none else. Others hid underneath a facade of pearls of furs lavish enough to purchase an automobile for the unfortunate if only to cover up status insecurity. The beauty of rising from the grime was the shameless freedom in each stride. Carelessness oozed from every pore and each flick of a cigarette igniting in the smoking room held a dim glow resembling a candle to showcase the difference between the rich and the poor.

Gerard stashed his matches into the depths of his coat pocket and shared somewhat kindly with fellows who never quite earned his full respect with the exception of two. It took a certain practice and skill to earn his entire respect, such a privilege was a crooked nail to straighten with each encounter. He could smell the smoke everywhere he turned and decided to breathe it in for himself if there was no escape. He was immediately soothed by the inhalation regardless of oxygen contamination, complex to his mind how he breathed death, a sentence he profited off of delivering. He supposed himself and smoke were both serial killers concealed by discreetness, only one did the job far slower than the other. Gerard wouldn't be so reckless as to trail at the pace of a slug when money was pinned to his name.

James Euringer, Jimmy Urine on the job, sat back in his seat and stared at the shuffle of cards spread on the table before him. He clicked his tongue loudly against his crooked teeth, the tip of his hat casting long shadows along the side of his face. Beside him, James propped his feet up into an unoccupied chair and chain smoked without much to say in the moment. If Gerard took a closer look, he could see the broken skin of his knuckles and faint stains of blood on his stubby fingers that wouldn't wash away with a simple rinse of soap and water. Gerard knew; some lingered underneath his fingernails like a red plague.

"Aren't ya gonna tell him what we came here for, Euringer?" Bob grunted out around a cigarette sticking crooked out from the corner of his pursed mouth.

Gerard's eyes flashed towards both men in a quick swipe. His fingers around the cards in his hands spread them out a notch and he shared a look with Toro;  _aces_.

"Keeping secrets from me, ladies?" Gerard taunted in a low drawl. He arched his eyebrow and slowly looked up from his deck.

Jimmy reached out for a card from the pile and shoved it into his collection fanned out between his fingers. He quirked an eyebrow back, an attempt to intimidate. The frost in Gerard's stare never melted nor strayed, it was an impossible winter to warm. Many tended to wonder if there was a heart underneath the cashmere suits and the striped ties, that odd prettiness clashing with the hardness of dark hazel eyes and a tight set to his jaw. Poor souls, those who knew him deep within would have thought, but only in their private thoughts. Gerard Way was skilled with a gun as much as a blade. Born and raised by a serial killer taking him in after the loss of his mother at birth and no father to collect his child, Gerard knew no other route than the path of murder. He wielded a gun like a professional by thirteen and he learned to savor the techniques involved in the most perfect murder cases. His empathy was cut short as he grew cold all over knowing he'd been abandoned by his biological father. He admired his adoptive one instead and strove to be his mirror image, God rest his soul if there was a power mighty enough to bring peace to spirits of the afterlife. Gerard continued for the only father he ever knew and for the great liking he took to his despicable tasks.

"Let's not jump into business straight away." Jimmy said. "I want to know something, Way."

Gerard leaned back in his chair, lifting a cigarette to his parted lips to light. "Info is all yours, Euringer."

Jimmy laid down his card stack face down on the table. By doing so, Gerard knew the game had come to a pause. He did the same in a slow flourish of his hand, breathing out a tendril of smoke. 

"I'd like to know if Warren is dead like I asked."

Gerard's lips twitched with something similar to a smile. "Dead as can be. You can attend his funeral his brother is planning if you want proof."

Jimmy nodded slowly in satisfaction. Considering his request as successfully completed, he reached into his pocket to dig out his wallet. Gerard licked his lips that buzzed from the cigarette and the taste for money, green he'd add to the wads stashed away in the confines of his vault.

Jimmy slid a thick wad of cash across the table. Gerard clasped his hand around it and shot a glance at Jimmy as he counted the dollars to find the correct amount. When the count was sufficient as promised, Gerard gave off a single nod and pocketed the money without so much as a grin. He leaned back in his chair and gripped his cigarette between his fingers the moment he realized it began to die out.

"Anything else I can do for ya, boys?" Gerard looked between Jimmy and the others beside him with a questioning arch to his raised eyebrows. He smashed the butt of the cigarette into the glass ashtray nearest to him to put out the dim embers glowing inside.

"You sure can." Dewees interjected. He shot a glance towards Jimmy impatiently and gained the interest of Gerard.

"What's eating you?" Gerard tilted his head to the side, a raven tendril of his hair falling into his hard stare.

"It's eating a lot of people," Jimmy sat back in his chair, rubbing at his chin ridden with stubble. "Tell me, how's business been lately?"

Gerard tightened his jaw. He wondered if Jimmy knew about the scarce amount of requests he received over the past few months. Though he carried a more than adequate amount of funds, he valued his orders and his payments, he built his reputation well without revealing the true identity of himself. As the days carried on, the news and the city were rocked with explosive chatter about the mysterious murderer taking vengeance over the men of the lowest kind, the spit grazing the filthiest ground paved crookedly by the sewers. She was a woman, her sex was the only detail anyone was informed of, a beautiful daisy luring men towards her web before she ended her reign of lust with blood splatters and no lingering evidence to trace the murders back to anyone. She seemed to cherish slow death and the grotesque art of blood smearing near every reachable surface, leaving her dead abandoned and found when their bodies began to decay. The Black Widow, they called her, a name bestowed upon her and her infamy just as Gerard had been named when no soul could identify who took all of his victims.

The Angel of Revenge.

The Black Widow was wiping valuable business clean with her less than flattering yet fashionable methods of murder. Her cold-blooded focus was set on men alone, it appeared, typically men Gerard would have been paid off to kill if it weren't for her rapid and frequent strikes seeping a trickle of fear into even the strongest of men.

 _Trust no woman_ , they all said among themselves. They selected life over sex, a wise and yet shamefully pitiful sacrifice to those who never ended the night without a woman on their arm.

"I think you know the answer to that." Gerard kicked back into the chair and sucked his cigarette. "Someone else has gotten comfortable gobbling up all of the best possible targets."

"Someone else?" Bob scoffed. "This isn't just anyone. It's the Black Widow."

"I know what they call her." Gerard snapped with the brittle chill of ice so thin and frozen. Tendrils of smoke puffed out through his mouth as he spoke. He needed an entire pack of cigarettes if he was going to get through a conversation about the woman running him out of business. He was lucky enough that Jimmy and his pals trusted him well, placing the money in his hands as long as the target in his mind was as good as dead in a satisfactory amount of time.

"I'd say you're bothered by this little quiff." Jimmy observed through narrowed eyes. Always looking closer, deeper, tilting into Gerard's business like it was any of his own. Gerard surprised his own self by not having killed the man yet out of sheer annoyance. What halted his hand moving towards his gun each time was the thought of money, business. He resented the curse of greed holding him at the blade's edge.

"What's it matter to you?" Gerard's sharp gaze split through the air to lock with Jimmy's.

Jimmy chuckled in a fashion that was almost fond. "I know you like your money, Way. You like your blood and your flashy house, your women, too."

"Can't think of a single man here who doesn't." Gerard flexed his jaw and heard Ray breathe a laugh through his nose.

"Fair enough." Jimmy nodded slowly. "I like you, Gerard. You get the job done fast and you don't hesitate."

Gerard gestured with his hands and nodded once,  radiating an air of arrogance collecting at the corners of his smirking lips. Beyond their nook, he could hear the song shifting into another, the sound of the door swinging open to announce the entry of someone new. He didn't glance in their direction, he kept his focus on the man sat in front of him.

"I have another job for you." Jimmy tapped his fingers on the table. "I think you'll benefit splendidly from this."

"Oh?" Gerard's eyebrows shot up in mild curiosity.

"Everyone will." James laughed gruffly on the other side of the table.

"Especially you. What if I told you there's a way to get business back on track so you can run this city again?"

Gerard's attention was captured without a single sway of hesitation. He leaned across the table, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"I'd say that I'd bump off the fuckin' president for you if that's what it'll take." Gerard lowered his voice, speaking surely. Jimmy turned his mouth up in amusement.

"It's not the president." Jimmy flickered his gaze elsewhere and settled it there. He nodded sharply towards that direction. "It's that sweet choice bit of calico over there."

As his face hardened, Gerard turned his head to follow the line of his eyes and see what, or who, he fixated onto. He found the prize across the room, sitting at the bar near the stage where the singer still swayed in her song. It was a woman perched on the bar stool with her back to the people gathered at the tables scattered around the room. She wore a sparkling black dress searching above her knees with beads lined in a zigzagging pattern along her slender waist without much of a curve. Her string of pearls draped along the back of her dress as well and her hair was a short black bob too lustrous to be natural, curling in towards her neck. Her legs were folded and encased by sheer stockings accentuated by black high heels polished to their finest shine. She was sitting still besides her smoking, a cigarette between two gloved fingers.

"A lady." Gerard looked her up and down. "It's not like you to ask me to shoot down a woman."

He wasn't opposed to it, necessarily, only surprised that Jimmy's focus strayed so far from arrogant, powerful men and all who crossed him.

"That's not just any woman." Jimmy tore his gaze away from her to give Gerard an odd look. "That's our very own Black Widow."

There was a dwindling chill flooding Gerard's bloodstream. No trace of fear swarmed into him as it would with any other man steering clear of every beautiful woman making it abundantly clear that she searched for a fun evening. What he felt was shock, firsthand, at the grandest reveal being centered around the simplest woman he could imagine. Her dress may have been tighter and short enough to be be scandalous to society if she moved a certain way, but there wasn't a dominating energy rolling off of her in waves as he imagined there would be if he ever saw her for himself. Second of all, there was a trace of resentment, spiteful distaste forming onto his tongue so thickly that he pressed it to the top of his mouth to swallow down a growl of rage. A simple little dandelion wouldn't run his business dry, never.

"Are you crazy, Euringer?" Gerard forced out through clenched teeth to control his thirst for murder. "The police are offering thousands to any fella who knows who she is, millions if you know where she's at."

"And you can turn her in yourself, if you want the money." Jimmy was oddly calm, his expression coming close to blank. "Or, you can take her down yourself. As slowly as you want, however you want."

Gerard bit down on his tongue so hard that he tasted the coopery tang of blood. He glanced in the direction of the Black Widow, taking in how her gloved hand glided over a tuft of her black hair to smooth it down. She moved as though she knew she emitted grace, a preached falsehood only adding to her venom Gerard wanted to bleed out of her. He'd spin her into a web of his own if he had the opportunity, teach a foolish young woman that the way to murder wasn't to spill blood and lather it just for the thrill, the fame crafting a pedestal in history for the maker of the corpses. It was for revenge, sweet and grotesque, enemies falling into their graves before the last drop of blood drained from their quivering bodies.

"How much?" Gerard's eyes were alight with a spark of insanity bright in the dim room. James and Bob exchanged a smirk, Ray looked mildly concern as he stared at the woman leisurely smoking at the bar, awaiting her next prey.

"Any amount you think you deserve once you're done." Jimmy leaned back and clapped a hand over Bob's shoulder. "Bryar and I are off to take Warren's fortune, thanks to you. He's got millions in that office of his."

"Sounds almost too good to be true." Gerard killed his cigarette off in the ashtray and stood up. He smoothed out his pinstriped blazer and ran a hand through his raven hair, licking his lips. He tasted vengeance on them.

"Keep your focus at all times." Ray advised him. "She may be messy, but she's gotten away with murder enough times to know what she's doing."

"You're talking to the Angel of Revenge." Gerard turned towards the woman at the bar. "I know better than to let a lady take me down."

He didn't glance back at the men behind him once he embarked from their private corner to the bar upholding the victim of his pursuit. Gerard shifted his demeanor into one that would be open and flirtatious enough to fool the woman into thinking he was savory enough to take into her webs of venom that evening. Thinking in the likes of her methods would continue to deceive her until she found herself under the glare of a gun, tough metal greeting her between the eyes before Gerard pulled the trigger to paint the walls with the crimson victory of her blood. He struggled to keep his smirk contained, his rapid heartbeat rejoicing with anticipation.

Gerard slid easily into the bar stool beside the Black Widow. Glancing at the man running the bar, he ordered in a smooth voice.

"I'll take a Boulevardier." He glanced to the woman beside him who tilted her head the slightest fraction in his direction. "Make that two."

The Black Widow stiffened. She relaxed quickly and the bartender began to work on the request he was given. Gerard took his bottom lip between his teeth and leaned casually onto the counter, taking in the woman. He could see now that her sleek bob was most definitively artificial, meant for a stylish appearance matching her dress shimmering in the dim lights. She wasn't as ordinary as he assumed at first glance without seeing her face. Her plump yet small lips were painted deep scarlet and her lashes were a long dramatic sweep surrounding her eyes dusted with charcoal shadows, her gaze casting downwards. Her jaw was delicate and sharp, her frame small and lacking of many feminine curves. He suspected she must have bound her breasts as other flappers enjoying doing, she was incredibly flat chested. He could see the appeal to her, perhaps he even fooled himself thinking he may have been interested in her if he didn't realize her identity.

"I hope you don't mind me buying you a drink, doll face." Gerard smoothed his voice over into a pleasant sort of purr falling off the tip of his tongue. His Jersey accent layered into it more thickly than normal and the slight gravelly notes added always made woman and men tremble whenever he looked for a prize other than the thrill of the kill.

The Black Widow's lips tightened for a split second. Soon, they relaxed into their plumper relaxed pout and lifted on one end higher than the other. As she turned towards him, his breath caught at the shock of golden hazel eyes leering at him through a veil of tangled black eyelashes, bright and intense enough to punch right through any man they settled on.

"Doll face?" Her voice was deeper than most, smoky, flourishing through her parted crimson lips like the entrails of a fire. "You come on strong for a man who doesn't even ask a lady if she drinks before buying her one."

He could hear the drawl of seduction in her voice, that ensnaring honey drizzle hooking onto her words as she spoke. Gerard was momentarily stunned at her immediate fearless response, tossing a lasso onto the game he created to ensnare her.

He channeled back into character and licked his lips. Chuckling, he rose his eyebrows, slowly shaking his head.

"I would have asked if I didn't have a belief that everyone likes a free drink on occasion." Gerard turned to fully face her with a slow twirl of his stool.

She glanced over him, and during her endeavor of fluttering her lashes girlishly, her first initial blink was hard and a cloudy look passed her expression. As if she hadn't expected Gerard to be a man of wealth who was also at a younger age, bringing the absence of a bulging gut and facial hair. He knew his looks were up to par with the finer bachelors in New York, the kind women attempted to snag for a ring and dollar bills to dance underneath as well as diamonds. He bit his lip; she would be easy to trick.

"I do like free drinks. Lucky for you." The Black Widow turned towards him as well, fingers toying with the bejeweled hemline of her dress. Her legs weren't thin, but they weren't quite shapely. Her knees were knobby, but the expansion of her thighs distracted him from them. Gerard quickly caught himself.

"I can't think of anyone who doesn't." Gerard slipped out a paper bill from his pocket to pay the bartender with after noticing their drinks were almost completed.

"You've got me there, sir."

"Call me Gerard. Sir makes me feel three times my age." Gerard smiled crookedly.

"Nifty name you have there. You can call me Francine." She, Francine, smiled back, putting in her two cents of razzle dazzle.

"That sure has a nice ring to it."

"So I've been told."

"Your drinks." The bartender slid the two thin glasses filled with blood red liquid towards them. Gerard slid him a bill of cash and dragged the drinks forward. He found the color of the beverage to be fitting for the course his mind took. He handed one to Francine and their fingers brushed together intentionally before Gerard began pulling away, holding in a dark chuckle.

"It's awfully kind of you to spend a little money on me." Francine took a small sip of the drink, peering at Gerard through her lashes.

"You looked lonely."

"Did I?" she cocked her head to the side.

"It's a shame for beautiful women to be left all alone." Gerard captured a droplet of perspiration dribbling from the side of his glass and held in a smug smile.

"You flatter me." Francine touched under her chin and took a moment to observe him. "You want something from me, don't you?"

"Want something?" Gerard's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.

"I know men, Gerard." Francine sighed and feigned wistfulness. She gestured towards her head with her hand and pretended she was feeling faint. "Luring a sweet gal like myself in with kindness to get a piece of her ass."

Gerard just about spat out the drink he sipped at her use of language doubled by how brazenly she said such a thing. He supposed all of her shame was stripped down when she began to kill; Gerard was the same. It was a single factor about her that made him feel that string of attraction being tugged in his chest besides her unique good looks. He considered it wouldn't be so heinous to fuck her before finishing what he approached her for. Imagining the sound of her moans becoming choked and panicked while he squeezed his hands around her smooth throat made his groin stir with a dark curl of heat.

"That's not very ladylike, Ms. Francine." Gerard bit his lip, his voice an appealing drag of sound.

"Not all of us are giggly saints." Francine traced her finger around the rim of her glass with a curve of a smile on her lips.

"I didn't think you were one." Gerard dared to inch closer, wondering if she would notice. "What're you doing in a place where the rats come looking for trouble with pretty gals like you?"

Francine seemed pleased by discreetly being told she was pretty. She shrugged while glancing up at him. "I like going to new places."

"I'm surprised this joint appealed to you. It doesn't have a good reputation."

"I'm not afraid of running into mobsters." Francine smiled serenely and Gerard tensed at her words. "I know that's what you're thinking about."

There were far more other things she had to fear besides notorious mobsters slinging guns in the darkness of alleyway shadows to uphold business of their own.

"Any other reason you've got that made you want to risk running into some big bad wolves?" Gerard forced a smile.

"I haven't been here before, but I heard it's the bee's knees if you want to smoke in peace." She nodded towards the remains of her cigarette sitting inside an ashtray on the counter.

"It's not bad." Gerard's eyes swept around the room and lingered where Jimmy and his boys had been. The table was vacant, but the cards they played were still flared out over the surface.

"What about you?" Francine drew his attention back. "You're a handsome fella, I thought you'd be inclined to spend your time in places less likely to be ridden with a bunch of dumb doras."

She glanced in distaste at the giggling woman a few tables away from them in a drunken man's lap, her breasts close to his face and spilling out of her dress. It was clear she had her fair share of alcoholic beverages as well as she swayed and nearly toppled over onto the floor.

Gerard chuckled. "I like to bend my elbow here. Drink a little, play some cards with friends." It was mostly true.

"That sounds relaxing." Francine fluttered her long lashes at Gerard over the rim of her glass. "Are you a hard workin' man?"

Gerard couldn't stop the smirk stretching across his lips, the dark gleam entering his eyes whenever he thought of his line of work. At the sight, Francine bit her lip, lust touching her eyes in a movement almost too discreet to see. Almost.

"You could say that." Gerard left it there. "How about you, doll? Do you have a lucky man waiting for you at home?"

She scoffed, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "Beat it with that marriage bullshit."

"Tsk, why so bitter about marriage?"

"There is no way I'm becoming a loyal housewife to a man who has me there as his trophy." Francine rolled her eyes.

"I know any man would fall to their knees to show you off." Gerard swept his eyes across her frame.

"Do I seem like the type that'll settle for being the good wife who smiles and waves at all of her husband's perverted friends?" Francine leaned in close with a daring twinkle in her eyes.

Gerard pursed his lips. "No. Not at all."

His reply made Francine giggle softly.

"Life's too short to waste my time. I'm too good to be held down that way, baby." Francine radiated certainty, a sort of arrogant ounce of vanity that made Gerard's gut twist with lust he hadn't expected nor wanted. Francine crossed her legs so her dress crept up her thigh and she winked at Gerard, sipping her drink.

"And, it's fun to take advantage of all the attention I get. I can't do that while playing the part of a holier than thou wife." Francine eyes scanned over Gerard's body in a quick sweep, darkness touching them before flickering away.

Gerard found a gateway, he was given one. He could practically salivate at the thought of getting where he wanted far sooner than he imagined, with the addition of a few other bonuses he didn't mind indulging in if he ended up with blood on his hands by the end of the night.

"Do you get a lot of attention, doll face?" Gerard leaned his arms on the table, tilting his head to the side a fraction.

"Of course." Francine flicked her tongue out over her plump bottom lip, leaving it glistening and wet. "I told you that I know men, baby. I like free drinks because I get them a lot."

"Hmm," Gerard tucked a fallen lock of his hair behind his ear, "that may be so, but do you call all of them baby?"

Francine's eyes twinkled and her lids seemed to become heavier over her amber colored stare. "Only if I like 'em right off the bat."

Game, set.

"I like you too, sugar." Gerard slid his hand down his own thigh, angling his leg so his knee just barely brushed against the Black Widow's. The touch of nylon against fine fabric felt smooth with the slightest rough catch scraping them together, much like Francine, soft yet tinted by impurity. Gerard was enraged and aroused by it and both teetered on the edge in a struggle of balance.

"That's cute." Francine chuckled. "Sugar."

"Reserved for only the sweetest gals." Gerard clicked his tongue softly and the Black Widow appeared to be blushing, but the dimness of the lighting could have been creating the illusion that she was.

Francine kept her eyes on her fingers wrapped around her drink, but her leg slid forward, gently knocking into Gerard's. He held in a shiver as he felt the brush of her high heel against his calf. It erupted against his will as she glided her heel in a slow drag up his leg, a gentle back and forth motion. She appeared so easily aloof, relaxed, he licked a swatch over his dry lips and attempted to keep his mind set on what truly mattered.

"You say you've been around? How come I've never seen you before?" Gerard asked and strained not to focus on her heel gliding along his pant leg.

"Maybe you have, but you weren't paying enough attention." The Black Widow glanced down at her foot making contact with Gerard's leg, giving a seemingly innocent head tilt as she drew it away to instead press their knees together.

"I would remember a face like yours." Gerard's gaze quickly flickered down to their knees, Francine's stockings stretched over her skin.

"Really?" She asked lightly, lifting her dark brows. "Am I that memorable, Gerard?"

"Most certainly," Gerard inched his palm over his thigh, sliding down in a smooth trail. "I wouldn't be able to forget you for a second."

The tips of his fingers pressed lightly against Francine's knee. He froze his hand to maintain contact, sensing how the Widow twitched ever so slightly at the touch. Gerard held in a smirk at her reaction and the tips of his fingers crawled a fraction closer, barely soaking in the thin texture of her stocking bathed in the warmth of her skin. He would have her wrapped around his finger in an instant if he allowed his palm to curve around her knee, fingers stroking along her leg, gliding higher up her thigh until a flush of heat came over her. Her legs would fall open in the slightest and it would be spectacularly simply to guide his hand underneath her dress under the darkness of the counter, pushing far under to cup around the heat between her legs. He salivated at the thought of teasing over her panties, watching a flush spread across her face and her neck as her teeth dig into her lip to restrain herself from making sounds in a public setting. She'd be wet, rocking against his circling palm pressing against her, enough for her to surrender her body to him so vulnerably, he could almost taste the blood once he guided her somewhere private to bury his face between her legs. Waiting until she came to take advantage of her weakness and  _kill_.

His cock twitched as Francine's eyes snapped towards Gerard with a thicker film of darkness tinting them. Her lips fell open to suck in a quiet gasp as he inched his hand higher, teasing, palm hot and fingers slightly spread out. He left it there and took a casual sip of his drink, almost missing the way she gritted her teeth together and turned away to stare at the counter.

"Handsy, I see. Bold." Francine's voice took a raspy touch to it.

Gerard answered by squeezing, his thumb stroking, and Francine jolted under his touch. Her legs fell open as he imagined they would if he maneuvered his hand enough and his eyes were drawn to the sight. It was far too dark to change the angle of his head to see what laid underneath the fitting dress she adorned herself with.

"Like you didn't play with me first?" Gerard purred, fingers stroking higher.

Francine laughed, eyes twinkling dangerously. "We're in front of other people, baby. Lord knows they'd enjoy a good show, but I'm not up for it tonight."

Tonight. Gerard's cock grew half hard in an instant imagining her taking someone passionately in front of watchful eyes, opening her legs or falling onto her hands and knees. Her lips were created for wonderful things, he could so easily imagine how beautiful they'd be if they were put to good use.

"They have smoking motel rooms in the back." Gerard sounded gravely and unlike himself. "If you want to bend your elbow with me." Those weren't his only intentions, but he supposed foreplay would make an impressive act.

Francine glanced towards the darkened hallway on the other side of the bar. Gerard held no doubt in his mind that there must have been men of filth having their way with the women from the grimiest street corners in one of the rooms. There might have been another finer class man dipping into silent infidelity to taste what he'd been deprived of for so long. If all feared the Black Widow, though, neither sort of man would take the risk unless he didn't mind death by beauty and sex and violence. Suicidal sex enthusiasts, ecstasy and death seemed a lovely match. 

"Do you have better quality fags than these shit sticks?" Francine grinned around her strong language. Her hand gripped the hem of her dress and drew it up to reveal cigarettes tucked into the garter of her stockings, white against pale soft flesh testing the strength Gerard held himself with. Fuck, she was a temptation sent to him from somewhere far from holy, and though he'd  love to wrap his hands around her beautiful neck, he craved to fuck and claim more than anything as she tilted her hips to reveal more skin to him in a tantalizing show.

"Of course." Gerard forced out and showed her his pack and the elegant steel lighter he tucked away alongside it.

"Swanky." Francine readjusted her dress which, to Gerard's disappointment, concealed the uncovered skin of her thigh, and she rose from her seat. Her heels tapped against the floor with a soft clicking sound and she leaned as close as she dared as her hand sank inside Gerard's pocket to secure her pack of cigarettes there. She kept eye contact, a teasing smile tinting her lips the slightest bit. Gerard could feel the warmth of her breath and he simultaneously longed to bend her over the counter and connect his fist with her gut. The contrast swayed him off beat and he sucked in a quick breath to control himself.

As she flashed a smug smile, she swayed her hips as she moved around him, fingers brushing his shoulder in a lingering gesture asking him to follow her. Gerard rose quickly, adrenalized at the thought of capturing the Black Widow in just a matter of moments. He could see deep in her eyes turning back to glance at him that there was a growing hunger darkening the amber color enriching the tones of brown and green filling in her irises. He saw a similar craving in his own reflection a multitude of times, the taste for spilling blood and the power of tearing a life away from the most vile human beings to ever roam the planet. Lust was evident in the way Francine's tongue flicked out over her lips and her teeth clamped down into the bottom one to give a little tug scraping at some of the scarlet lipstick. Gerard ushered behind her with a hand settled at the small of her back, leading her down the row of occupied rooms until they found one vacant and slightly open. He didn't need to remain guarded, he'd been to the motel bar bar too often for the owners to know of his identity, his ruthless attempts to keep himself unknown to all, they wouldn't dare pin the Black Widow's murder onto him unless they expected to be dead before they had a chance to run to the authorities.

Gerard and Francine entered the room with the pale yellow lighting and the red glow coming from a welcome sign hanging above the headboard of a bed fine enough for two to fit inside. The carpets were stained and aged, the furniture was outdated and there were permanent come and blood stains imbedded into the threading of the sofa pressed against the wall. The wallpaper was floral and the sheets were white and cream colored, no windows were built into each of the walls. Gerard could smell the stale scent of cigarettes permanently residing in the space. He was certain the walls had witnessed sensual and harrowing things.

Francine flopped onto the foot of the bed and sat back on her palms, crossing her legs with an expectant expression.

"I believe you were willing to share?" She said playfully, glancing towards Gerard's pocket.

He walked towards her with his hands in his pockets, stopping close enough that Francine tilted her head back to stare at him with an arched eyebrow. Gerard slipped out one cigarette from his back and held it firmly between his fingers. Francine reached for it, but he steadily ignored her hand. He lead the cigarette to her lips, gaze attached to hers. A sweep of shock broke out over her features before she swiped it clean. She opened her lips and watched Gerard as he placed the cigarette between them, waiting for her to clamp them around the stick. As she did, Gerard took out his lighter and waved it in the air.

"Take off your wig first, then you'll get your fill." Gerard slowly twirled the lighter between his fingers.

Francine stared at him. Slowly, she smiled around the cigarette in her mouth and it moved at an add angle protruding from the corner of her lips. She peeled off her silky gloves first from her hands and draped them across of the edge of the bed. The Black Widow reached for her hair, running her fingers through the black strands and the bangs cut straight across her forehead. She grasped it from the top and pulled it back. A fringe almost as black as at the pitch of the wig tumbled forward and landed on her cheek in a dark curl. Her hair was cut rather short for a woman, choppy and growing out at the sides, messy from being covered by the webbing of a wig. She ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it down and twirled her fringe around her finger slowly. Gerard watched as she let it go and it twisted towards her defined jawline.

"Better?" Francine tossed the wig aside.

"Much better." Gerard nodded in approval. He flicked back the trigger on his lighter and a flame erupted instantly. Francine drew closer as it was lead to the end of her cigarette, the fire casting a shadow of orange light over her face. He could see a scar beside her brow and one above her top lip, a nearly invisible cut upon her cheekbone. All suggested that she must have struggled with her victims before. Gerard loved scars on his lovers, loved finding them under his hands and digging his nails into them anew, rubbing his tongue across them if they were strewn across the person's body. Men typically had more than women, their brutality was more common.

But Francine wasn't his lover. She was his worst enemy. It was comical how he managed to lure her in so easily on an evening he hadn't expected to meet her at all. He came across fate and Jimmy was responsible for his discovery, he would need to thank the man later on for leading him to the throat of the only person he wished to kill for himself. Gerard didn't favor killing certain individuals since he mainly kept to himself. He slung a gun at his side for others, he killed in secret just like his father, and he at times wore a cross around his neck for irony while on the job. Francine became the only victim he salivated at the thought of making weak and defenseless, a woman who'd plead for her life and be met with no mercy. Her beauty was intriguing, sex radiated from her promising movements and Gerard could tell she willingly opened her legs only for the men who caught her eye the most. He'd oblige to her expectations, he'd play along with her games, though he wondered when she planned to strike.

Gerard would attack before she had the chance to wound him. Francine was only a woman, a seductress, trivial compared to a trained serial killer. Gerard was starving for her, it was true. He craved her in a way that was natural and abnormal all at once, a treacherous tango. Gerard watched her smoke and held in a deep laugh rumbling in his chest, quivering at the back of his throat.

The Black Widow would never imagine tonight was her final evening she'd spend alive.


	2. Lust

Francine took her newly lit cigarette and sucked the smoke into her lungs. Her lips were ruby red and plump around the white of the thin stick, gloved fingers clasped around it. Her lashes cast dark shadows over her cheeks like the feathers of a raven draping across her smooth skin, a soft dusting of rouge coloring them a subtle shade of pink. Drawing the cigarette away from between her lips, her eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy and she tipped her head back, exhaling in a smoky stream. Gerard's eyes dragged down to her neck and he noticed how oddly protruded her Adam's apple was. He never saw it appearing so obvious in a woman and a spark of confusion tickled the back of his mind as he also noticed her shoulders were quite broad. Not as much as his own, but more than the softer curves of a woman. She was still beautiful, no curious shape of her body could deny her that.

"Are you gonna stand there and stare or are you gonna join me?" Francine asked in slight amusement.

Gerard's attention snapped back to her face, the smile tugging at her mouth. There was lipstick ringing around her cigarette and smoke hovering around her before it dissipated slowly.

"You're nice to look at." Gerard's lips curled up more on one corner than the other.

"I know." Francine rubbed her hand over her knee before standing up gracefully. She swung her hips side to side as she brushed past him, her hand stroking along his arm until she moved away far enough for it to slide away. He could smell her perfume lingering on his jacket.

He turned and spotted her observing a painting hanging on the wall, one hand on her hip and the other in the air close to her face with a smoking cigarette between her fingers.

"Haven't been in a sketchy motel room for a while." Francine commented. "I must be disgusting for missing the feeling of it."

Gerard stepped slowly closer, keeping himself behind her. "You shouldn't be going into motel rooms with just anyone, sweetheart."

Francine moved her head to the side to show she was listening with interest. "Oh?"

Gerard started closing the gap between them. Once he was close enough to keep a sliver of empty air between them, he lifted his hand and tugged gently at her string of pearls spilling down her back, causing her to tense.

"Mhm." he hummed.

"Why's that?" Francine's breath caught as Gerard let go of her pearls and went to toy with the zipper of her dress. His fingers brushed against warm and soft flesh, he longed to scatter bruises along the flawless canvas and sink his teeth into it.

"You don't know what kind of monsters could be looking for a sweet little bunny like you." Gerard dragged his tongue over his lips, his voice deep and dark enough to make Francine's fingers tighten around her cigarette.

"I may be sweet, but I'm no little bunny, baby." Francine shook her head. "I'm not afraid of no one."

" _Mmm_." Gerard took the final step forward so he was pressed against Francine's back. Light enough not to jostle her, but close enough to make her suck in a quick breath. "You sure about that?"

"Is this your way of telling me I should be blowing this joint with my tail between my legs? Or that I should be scared of  _you_?" Francine breathed out a laugh that trembled as Gerard stroked his hand across her shoulder, his nose drawing a line over the curve between her neck and her shoulder. She smelled like smoke, perfume, and soap.

"Attagirl," he purred, the word rolling off of his tongue. "I won't hurt you, sugar lips. Don't sweat it."  _Lies_.

"Then why should I be afraid?" Francine dropped her cigarette to the ground and slowly crushed it with her heel, exhaling shakily as Gerard laid his hands on her hips and gave a gentle squeeze.

"'Cause I want to do things to you that a man should never do to someone sweet as you." He shoved her forward and waited for her to stumble into the wall. She gasped loudly and her palms slapped against the surface with a resonating sound. He followed, pressing his hips right into her, tugging hers back so they slotted together in a filthy jigsaw. He mouthed at her neck as she scratched at the walls with polished fingernails undoubtedly leaving thin lines on the cheap wallpaper, giggling like being pinned elated her.

"You think I'm some sort of angel, Gerard?" Francine breathed out with a seductive quiver, a gloating note behind it.

"You look the part."

Francine laughed sarcastically with an edge of breathlessness seeping through the rhythm. "I've sucked off enough big shots to make the number of smarties you've fucked worth less than two pennies."

Gerard rolled his eyes and shoved his hips forward, grinding against her, ultimately making her falter and moan quietly.

"Why don't you prove it, then?" Gerard whispered into her ear. His breath was hot and right against her skin, his cock stirred at the way she pushed her ass back against him.

"If you ask me nicely, then maybe I'll show you." Francine huffed. Suddenly, she shoved him back and away from her with a push of her hips and her shoulder blades. He stepped back in mild surprise. Francine turned in a slow twirl and grinned darkly at him. Her dark hair fell into her glowing eyes and her lips were wet, cheeks flushed.

Gerard had no time for games.

He grabbed her by her wrists and shoved her back against the wall, this time pressing their chests together, and he pinned her hands above her head. Francine grunted, still grinning like a mad woman, and she parted her legs to hook one around Gerard's. She threw her head back and moaned obscenely as Gerard's hips pressed into hers. Although the sound was all for show to her own gain, the softness of the following moan she emitted on a lingering note to her laughter was genuine, deeper than the previous sound. Her breath shuddered as Gerard gripped her wrists tight and rocked against her, not being able to help himself as he leaned in and pressed hot, open mouthed kisses along the side of her neck to taste her flawless skin. Francine shuddered and eagerly leaned forward.

At the movement of her hips, Gerard felt something he hadn't expected, but during the same interval, he realized he wouldn't have doubted it after piecing together some slightly peculiar things about the woman pressed against him. Francine didn't shy away as she kept her hips in place. As a matter of fact, her grin only deepened, fixing crookedly into a smirk glowing in the dim lighting as Gerard's fingers pressed into her skin in a bruising grip. He swallowed hard and pressed roughly against her, almost ashamed of the flush of arousal spilling over his insides.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" Francine stooped her voice into a deeper tone sounding far more natural than the breathy softness of what Gerard heard from her that evening. As her question tumbled past her lips, she rolled herself forward, her obvious bulge pressing up against Gerard's pelvis.

"You're . . ." Gerard couldn't find words.

The Black Widow fluttered her eyelashes and glanced down between their bodies. "You gonna kill me now? Beat me black and blue, leave me to bleed out in here?"

Her, or his, high heel pressed against the wall as Francine bent her leg and pressed her knee to the side of Gerard's hip. He heard it scraping against the wall and realized with a piercing flare sparking in the back of his skull that her fingers were slowly creeping towards her shoe. He squinted and noticed a faint gleam of something hidden in the slot between the heel and the sole, a strange protrusion sticking out from the back part. She hid a weapon inside her shoe without a doubt in Gerard's mind. He almost barked out a laugh, but he decided to act quickly instead to wipe her mind clean of murder, to heavily distract her from pouncing.

Gerard slid down to his knees in a smooth drop, hands running down Francine's body until his knees made contact with the carpet with a muffle thud and he was close enough to see her bulge lifting the material of her dress ever so slightly. Francine gasped at the unexpected movement and slammed her foot down, palms slapping against the wall. Gerard looked up at her through his lashes to find her shocked beyond her wits. She must have expected to plunge some sort of knife into his guts and orchestrate the rest of his demise once a weakness was found — discovering the truth about what laid between her legs must have been where her games ended on most evenings.

"God, doll, did you really think I'd do all that?" Gerard rubbed his open palms over the coarse beading of her dress and crept them down to the hemline resting tight around her thighs. He grasped it in his hands and peeled it upwards to relish in the sight he realized he was starved to see since his discovery.

"I —" Francine sputtered, twitching as her dress was lifted.

Dark blue satin panties stretched over the obvious line of an erection between The Widow's legs. It curved towards her stomach and forced the fabric to tent, so close to becoming fully hard, and the scent of her arousal brought on overwhelming desire in Gerard. His eyes flickered over to her stockings and her garters contrasting against her pale olive toned skin, the fabric a rich shade of black pressed tight against her smooth flesh he ran his fingers over in a failed attempt to keep himself in control. Francine's knees wobbled visibly, but she tensed all over as Gerard's fingers met with the sheath of leather tucked underneath one of the lacy straps. He recognized the texture and the shape immediately and his eyes snapped open wide.

Francine's breath was audible as Gerard tugged the sheathed knife from under its protective embrace of the garter to free the blade from the leather. Humming, Gerard twirled the knife in his hand, twisting the tip of his finger over the tip until a measly drop of blood began to bead under the initial dull sting cutting through his skin. Bringing his finger to his lips, he made eye contact with the Black Widow as he sucked it clean, lightly bobbing his head over his wounded finger and tasting the faint metallic tang of blood sliding over his tongue. Francine was flabbergasted, her pupils were pupils blown and her mouth hung open.

Gerard slid his finger out from between his lips with an exaggerated pop. "A lady has to protect herself somehow, hmm?"

Francine spread her legs as Gerard pressed the dull and cool side of the knife against the inside of her thigh. Though she gasped, she didn't move her limbs, she placed her trust in him that he wouldn't sink the blade deep into her flesh and yank it out ruthlessly to proceed. It would be astoundingly easy to, he thought to himself, but teasing was such a gratifying charade that made his cock hard enough to make him crave to bend Francine over, spit against her hole, and fuck her against the wall for all it was worth. He dragged the tip of the blade across the inside of her thigh, reaching between her legs to glide the side of it against her bulge. Her thighs quivered and she made a muffled noise behind her lips now clamping together.

As Gerard rose to his feet, he dragged the tip of her knife across her body in a straight and gentle line. Higher, higher, across her throat and over her chin, then pressing it to her lips with a pause. Francine stared at him with dark eyes and Gerard stared back without a centimeter of fear rising in him. Francine parted her lips against the blade and, to Gerard's surprise and arousal, flitted her tongue out over the blade in the gentlest swipe. Gerard sucked in a sharp breath. He tilted the knife so the smooth side was pressed there instead and Francine moaned. Her pink tongue swiped over the side, careful to avoid slicing herself on accident. Her gaze never strayed, nor did it falter, it only grew in strength. Even with a blade so close to her throat, to her skull, and touching her tongue Gerard was capable of severing, she wasn't afraid of him.

Gerard drew the knife away and stared at her in something similar to awe. For once, all thoughts of murder dissipated.

"One thing you should know before you fuck me," Francine whispered, "is that I'm no lady."

The Black Widow, a man in all of his gorgeous, infamously adorned glory, swatted the knife out of Gerard's hands. It clattered to the floor with a dull sound and Gerard wasn't given the time to glance down at it before he was being shoved back against the bed. He stumbled and fell back onto the soft comforter and the springy mattress with a huff, but he instantly bit back his heavy irritation as he stared at a dark angel crawling into his lap, straddling his hips lithely. The Widow's dress hiked up obscenely and his fingers curled around Gerard's tie to yank him up towards him.

With their faces close together, Francine purred out, "Call me Frank. I'd like to hear you moaning that, handsome."

Frank's lips pressed hard against Gerard's with the slickness of lipstick transferring over to his mouth, sliding along with the movement of his skilled lips immediately drawing a lustful reaction out of Gerard. It had been far too long since he held a man so close in his arms, felt that electrifying bulge pressing right up against his body with more heat than he could ever anticipate. The Black Widow was filled with countless surprises Gerard never would have imagined existing within one person. A flirtatious and bold individual unafraid of what may have laid in his wake after demanding the attention of a man to reveal there was not a single intimate part of him that resembled a woman. He was prepared for the blow, the fight, and the ultimate downfall of yet another enemy after throwing punches with just as much strength until all the blood that was shed sank into the threads of carpets, abandoned by a man tucking a blade into the slot between the spike and sole of a high heeled shoe.

Gerard caught Frank's bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, tugging it, making the man grip him tighter and roll his hips down against him. Gerard couldn't help the gravely moan escaping him when pressure was placed on his crotch. Frank hissed softly and pulled away from their rough kiss, dragging his tongue over his lips and staring at him with half lidded eyes. He shoved his hips down against him and didn't halt his rough rhythm knocking them together, their clothed cocks rubbing together for relieving friction. Gerard dug his fingers into Frank's hips and moaned in tandem with the whorish noises leaking from The Black Widow's open lips, crimson smudged all around his mouth. Gerard clashed their lips together again and pulled Frank down against him, laying flat on his back. His gun tucked into the back of his pants dig into his tailbone, but he didn't care to give it attention. Frank went down with him and wriggled his tongue inside Gerard's mouth. Gerard returned the movement by rubbing their tongues together in a slick glide between their moving lips.

Frank moaned into his mouth as Gerard reached up to tangle his fingers tightly into his messy, choppy hair, giving a light tug. Gerard struggled not to smirk with his mouth moving hotly over Frank's, but his hips angled upwards, his cock rubbing up against Frank's ass pushing back against him.

Frank pulled away with a soft gasp, the thinnest string of saliva dangling between their lips. "Fuck, just like that."

Gerard gripped Frank's hips tight and pushed him down against his lower body, making Frank quiver and rock against him. His long lashes fluttered as he shut his eyes and his mouth dropped into a delicate 'o' shape Gerard ached to shove his cock inside. He could feel Frank's dick pressed tight against him and he realized that it had been far too long since he'd been with a man. He adored the feeling of being with one just as much as he loved bedding women, but something about the feeling of a tight ass around his cock and the roughness of a sharper structure made his skin tingle all the way down to the surface of his bones. He could feel how Frank was firmer than a woman, his waist and hips didn't have the cinching curve he became accustomed to over his many experiences, and the feel of his skin wasn't quite as pliant, but the softness was still present as Gerard ran his hands across the bare patches of flesh at his thighs. He responded by clenching his legs around Gerard and shuffling downwards for their cocks to rub against each other in slow, savory circles. Gerard made a soft noise he hadn't intended to release and his mind galloped with penetrating thoughts of sex, dominance, his instinct to fuck spilling over his insides and grating every single nerve as he seized Frank's body and thrust up against him as though he was inside him. Frank let out a soft cry, his brows creasing.

" _Fuck me_ ," Frank hissed softly, "I know you want to."

"It's so much better to make you beg for it." Gerard growled in response. Tangling his fingers into the hem of Frank's dress, he yanked it upwards towards his torso to reveal what he longed for the most. Frank gasped and the sound progressed into a desperate moan as Gerard laid his palm over his straining erection. Frank's hips canted forward in small and erratic bursts, the wetness from the precome seeping out from the tip of his cock staining and ruining the pretty satin of his underwear. The satin was giving away and the tip of his cock began to peek out from under the stitching.

"I don't beg for anyone." Frank licked his lips and slowed his movements. "It's you who oughta beg for me."

"Wishful thinking won't get you anywhere." Gerard strained out a laugh, and that curl of resentment he felt towards Frank's words reminded him of everything he disregarded for the sake of pleasure. His heart gave a jolt of realization that melted away as Frank leaned over him to lather his neck in sweltering kisses, biting his skin, and his hand crept down to press roughly onto Gerard's cock through his pants. He groaned, all other thoughts dissolving so he could focus on the heat flushing his skin as Frank started palming him. Frank gave his cock a firm squeeze and quickly went to tug down his zipper, undoing his pants to free it.

"You'll see." Frank pushed Gerard's hand away from his cock with a smoldering look crossing his expression. He reached inside Gerard's pants, pushing his underwear aside, and his fingers made contact with his pulsing cock crying out for the touch it had been deprived of. Gerard clenched his teeth together and shuddered, holding in a moan, but it ripped free as Frank wrapped his hand around him and started rubbing his slit with the pad of his thumb to lather his length in the sticky wetness of precome.

"Oh, baby, you're so hard for me," Frank drawled sweetly, leaning down to kiss under Gerard's jaw, "I bet you're dying to get inside me."

Gerard said nothing in response, but his hips arched upwards into the tight circle of Frank's hand rubbing over him. Frank chuckled and started a quick pace, his hand hot and his palm soft, but his grip was tight and sure as it stroked Gerard up and down. Gerard's eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the sharp sizzling of pleasure bolting into him, sparking at the ends of his spine. His skin buzzed and his fingers reached up to thread into Frank's hair. He yanked the man down into a hot and furious kiss, all tongue and teeth and swollen lips. Frank kissed back with just as much vigor and ground down onto Gerard's thigh. The softest whimper vibrated against Gerard's lips and it made a growl rumble in the depths of his chest. Frank only stroked him faster, the movements growing slick as precome spilled from the tip of Gerard's cock and dribbled down the sides like crystalline droplets Frank's palm smeared with every glide.

Gerard hadn't noticed Frank reaching for the knife tucked slyly in the thinnest compartment of his shoe. He was absorbed in the hot lips and tongue worshiping his mouth, the hand pumping his cock the way he would if it had been his own hand providing himself with the sensation. Frank's cock rubbing against his leg was hot and hard, the satin was inching away from it with every movement and Gerard could tell his bare cock was there against his leg the instant he felt wetness seeping through his clothes. His cock pulsed in Frank's hand and he was oblivious to Frank quickly slotting the knife from his heel and holding it at an angle where Gerard couldn't see it.

Frank pulled his lips away with a slick sound, breathing hard and moaning. "Say my name, baby, let me hear it."

"Frank." Gerard mindlessly let his name filter from his lips in a gravely sound. Pleasure was filling his veins and taking over his mind, he fucked the circle of Frank's hand with a higher demand to reach a point where pure bliss inhabited. Frank keened in response and pressed his face into Gerard's neck, nibbling at the clear pale skin. He gave Gerard's throat a little kiss and tilted his face up to look him in the eye.

"I'd love to play with you," Frank whispered, "but no man will ever have a chance to hurt me again."

Gerard's sex fueled thoughts came to an abrupt halt. With a cloud of confusion blurring the colors sprinting in front of Gerard's vision, he watched Frank sit up to straddle him. His hand around his cock was gone and Gerard realized in a crashing second seizing his body up with renewed tension that Frank had the blade held high above Gerard. He sliced his arm through the air with the tip of the knife aimed towards Gerard's chest, his face screwed up with anguish and manic determination he hadn't seen in any living person besides himself.

Gerard, in a flash, wrapped his hand around Frank's wrist slicing through the air with a knife aimed for the cavity of his chest, right above his heart. A withering glare pierced into Frank who froze up as he realized he'd been stopped. The Black Widow, Frank, sneered menacingly at him, attempting to rip his wrist free, his pearls and diamond earrings tinkling like summer chimes. Gerard's kept his grip firm and flipped over their partially exposed bodies to straddle him. He pinned Frank's wrists with agile speed and ripped the knife from his fist.

"I'm not as easy to kill as you think, doll face." Gerard hissed close to his face.

Frank cried out in rage. He writhed under the solid weight of Gerard's body pinning him down with surprising strength. Without any of his limbs free, Frank clenched his jaw tight. He lifted his head up and snapped it forward for their heads to collide with a crushing blow sending a burst of pain through Gerard's face. In his moment of shock and a yell of pain, Frank shoved Gerard away from his body and seized the knife again. Rising to his feet, he stumbled with a spell of dizziness after the collision of their skulls. Gerard scrambled away from the bed and almost became a victim to Frank's knife slicing through the air with the intent of plunging into his back. He dodged the advance and the knife sank into the mattress instead. Frank frantically ripped it free, but before he could move, Gerard kicked his legs away from underneath him. Frank clattered to the floor in a heap, the knife scraping over the carpet with a rough tearing noise rising above his harsh breathing.

Gerard kicked Frank down and pinned him there with a foot planted against his chest. He threatened to stomp down and crush his bones in the way he locked his eyes with Frank's that were livid and bright with murder.

"You think you're strong enough to add me to your list, sweetheart?" Gerard taunted and bent down closer. "The Black Widow?"

Frank's pupils expanded wide in his irises. His lips pulled back over his gleaming teeth and he trembled with rage.

"I swore I'd kill you with my bare hands even if I end up dead,  _Angel of Revenge_." He spat venomously.

Gerard coiled up tight inside with shock. Soon, he registered no other feeling than the blistering pain suddenly entering his leg. He yelled out and his knees buckled at the fire of pain shooting up his leg, a swelling throb rubbing harshly towards his nerves. He snapped his head down and saw Frank dug his knife into his leg with his knuckles white from the grip he held on the handle. It wasn't deep enough to cause blood to pour endlessly from him, but the strike of something piercing through his flesh hurt more than he ever expected. Another kick of violent pain shocked Gerard's system as he ripped it away from the wound, blood trickling across the steel. Frank kicked at him and shoved, taking advantage of his weakness, and Gerard fell onto his knees.

"You psychotic little whore." Gerard growled, clutching at his leg.

Frank's fist connected with Gerard's cheek, a harsh impact of knuckles bruising skin and making contact with bone filling Gerard's ears. His head snapped to the side and the taste of blood filled his mouth after he bit down on the inside of his cheek to reel from the pounding burst of new pain. He blindly angled his arm and threw his elbow out towards the direction of Frank. Satisfaction fell over him as he caught Frank's ribs and rammed his elbow into them once more until he heard a yelp rip free from the other man.

Frank crawled towards the bed on his hands and knees, dress ridden up in ridiculous wrinkles and his palm catching his string of pearls. He yanked too harshly and the necklace shattered, raining pearls all across the carpeted floor. He was reaching for the heel he'd discarded, hands bloody from the knife he used to cut through Gerard's skin.

Gerard roughly took a hold of Frank's torso even if it was hell to stand with a wounded leg and tossed him onto the mattress. Frank cried out, twisting in his grip when Gerard went with him, but a knee to the softness of his gut made him curl inwards as the wind was knocked from his lungs. Gerard grabbed his ankles and flipped him onto his back, knocking the knife from his hand, and he was digging his knees into Frank's wrists at his sides. The Black Widow's eyes were practically black with rage and adrenaline, his dress was a mess scrunching around his body with one thick strap hanging off of his shoulder. Gerard couldn't fathom how a trickle of arousal still pounded through him at the sight of Frank's bare thighs decorated so prettily in garters, the mess of his hair and his swollen lips, how flushed his skin became. He was beautiful, but a serpent, a deadly insect Gerard needed to drain the poison from.

Gerard ripped the gun from the back of his pants and undid the safety lock with a menacing click. Frank froze immediately at the sight of the pistol in Gerard's hands and every single trace of livid fire faded in an instant. Gerard pressed the cold metal against Frank's forehead and locked his eyes with him. Frank was deathly still, all of the blood draining from his face. His eyes widened further than Gerard had ever seen in the short time he knew him and it was the highest triumph to watch the arrogance and hostile rage completely vanish from his eyes to reveal the only emotion every human being had left upon meeting face to face with death; fear.

"You didn't think the Angel of Revenge would come to a part of town as filthy as this without a gun, did you?" Gerard drizzled sweetness into his voice, a twisted accompaniment to the lingering venom.

"How could I think you had one when you haven't pulled it on me the whole night?" Frank didn't look the part, but his voice was filled with bitter rebellion.

Gerard twisted his mouth into a sneer and pressed the gun harder against Frank's forehead. He thought he heard him whimper.

"How do you know who I am?" Gerard spat at him. "Who have you told?"

"I haven't told anyone, you bastard." Frank jolted at the last word he spoke for emphasis. "I know who you are because you killed my friend. The only one I had left."

How tragic. Gerard laughed without humor. "One thing you don't seem to understand, doll, is that I don't pick and choose who I kill."

"What?" Frank grimaced.

"I get paid to kill." Gerard lifted the gun from Frank's forehead and flipped it around in his hand. "People tell me who they want in the ground, I grab a gun to clip 'em with, and I get my money."

"Don't lie to me, scum!" Frank yelled out suddenly and began thrashing wildly under Gerard's hold. "That's a lie, you must have known who he was if you know who I am, fuck you!"

Gerard clenched his jaw. He reeled the gun back a few inches and snapped it forward to slam it into the side of Frank's head. Hard enough to shut him up, but not nearly enough to do severe damage. Frank cried out loudly and stopped. He stared up at Gerard with wide and disoriented eyes, a bruise rapidly forming at his cheekbone. The skin split open and trickles of blood startled to stream down his face like crimson rivers. Gerard pressed the mouth of the gun against Frank's forehead and leaned down to examine the wound, frowning slightly.

"Poor little rabbit," Gerard cooed. "You don't know the slightest thing about anything. I didn't know who you were until tonight, so shut your mouth about your friend."

Frank swallowed hard and lifted his chin defiantly. "There's no one who would have wanted him dead."

"Obviously, someone did, doll face. One thing I've learned since I started my business is that there are eyes and ears everywhere." Gerard dragged the gun lightly across Frank's perfectly arched eyebrow, gliding it towards his wound. Frank flinched back, his breath stuttering.

"Watching you, watching me, watching the most innocent people you see out on the streets." Gerard leaned down close and lowered his voice into a whisper. "People have been watching you too, sugar. Why do you think I'm here with you right now?"

Frank's breath caught. Their lips were close, one may have realized, but their eyes were focused on each other, observing every movement.

"You're sick." Frank rasped. "Killing just to get a dime."

"And are you any better? Killing men the way you do?" Gerard flared with aggression. He dug his knees into Frank's wrists and made him hiss sharply in pain.

"I have a reason, at least." Frank spat and jostled, trying to wriggle away again. "They deserve to die. They're all the same underneath it all, lying scumbags who touch and feel up whoever they want just because they can."

"You're a man."

"Possibly the only one who wouldn't hurt anyone the way a man hurt me!" Frank cried and his voice was filled with so much raw agony that Gerard nearly recoiled in pure shock.

He sat up and stared down at Frank trapped underneath him. He'd turned his gaze away after his outburst and he stopped writhing under his grip to escape. Gerard saw the glaze of tears building rapidly in Frank's eyes and the water swelled until it leaked from the corners, trickling just as the  blood from his cheek had, the way Gerard's blood seeped slowly from the wound in his leg still throbbing from the pain. Frank was so easily identified as a hurricane of emotions unlike the person he started off as hours ago. His makeup was smudged and his hair became a tangled mess, he was distraught and angry and tired and, above all, hurt. He looked as though he longed to curl up on himself and shed every tear inside him until he was run dry and heaving. Gerard had never seen an individual wrapped up in so much pain, a kind that withered away the shreds of happiness and humanity locked tight inside him. There was something so increasingly bold and unexpected about it that made Gerard's chest tighten up. He'd never experienced it before, that suffocating feeling making him highly aware of the gun he was holding to Frank's head.

The Black Widow was not born out of cold apathy like the Angel of Revenge was. She was born out of pain, resentment turning a man's heart dark, she searched for the taste of pure, unfiltered revenge. She retrieved it from each victim she took because a man wounded her —  _him_ , Frank. The Black Widow and Francine were masks to cover up the bodies and his tortured soul with.

"He touched you, didn't he?" Gerard sounded bleak, dark.

Frank squeezed his eyes shut tight and more tears escaped. He flexed his jaw. "Touched? It wasn't so simple."

Gerard couldn't believe there was fury grazing his bloodstream. He was taken by shock to feel it heating his blood, his insides, imagining Frank before he trained himself to become a serial killer. Small, beautiful, having yet to be corrupted by the toxic filth of the world. Someone seized him and robbed him of everything pure he had left to cling to, they were the cause for the anger, the murderous rampage, this destructive self defense he took pride in. If Gerard had morals left inside him, he identified one; he'd never sexually take any soul against their will, and he furiously lathered the blood splattered on his hands whenever he shot down the filth who roamed freely doing such a thing.

Gerard fought hard against everything welling up in him. He never backed down from an order and he wouldn't because of a strike of what he disregarded as common pity. He grabbed his gun tight and straightened up, placing his finger on the trigger.

"Your life story won't save you." Gerard told Frank.

Frank laughed bitterly, so cold and unfeeling that it stung. "I'm not here to get your pity so you can walk out on me. Do it." He stared up as he dared him, his eyes hard although the remains of tears tinted them red.

Gerard's lips were tight as he held onto a glare. He positioned his wrist and stroked the trigger, reaching to pull it. He prepared for the blood, the deafening sound ringing through his ears and echoing in the room before silence fell thickly upon him. He'd never hesitate to discard the body, hide the evidence, and disappear without so much as a trace as he always did. He would earn any amount of money his heart desired and his business would return to its normal pace once he killed The Black Widow, he'd be worshipped for it among his other peers and all who would come to know him. Gerard would feel like a God for taking her life with his very own gun, a prized pistol he'd retire to keep the soul of the Widow trapped inside it.

Which was why Gerard couldn't explain the reasons for not being able to pull the trigger. Physically, nothing overcame him, but mentally, a block built in his mind and took control of his hand curled tight around his gun. His finger began to tremble as he grappled onto Frank's unfaltering stare, waiting for him to end his life in a swift movement. Frank's eyes were hazel, shining with tears and haunted by the past, he was equally enraged and empowered by his experience and that would never fade from his gaze. It pierced through Gerard and broke that band of strength he protected himself with, somewhat of a wall concealing every one of his weaknesses. He soon believed that he had none after stowing them away for so long.

"Well?" Frank broke the building silence. "Aren't you going to do what you came here for?"

Gerard had no response. He couldn't speak, Frank was warm under him and he didn't do so much as breathe too deeply to try to escape. He accepted his fate without wiping out that spark inside him,  _fuck_ , Gerard shouldn't have admired that. He shouldn't have felt anything for this murderer, this seductive spider drawing in his victims to end it all with a bloodbath.  His intention was to wipe Gerard out just the same, not a fraction less brutal than the rest.

Frank pushed up and shoved Gerard away from him. Gerard didn't fight it, even as a familiar bolt of anger rippled down his spine. Frank swiftly took the gun from Gerard's hand to hold it tight in his own and he straddled Gerard's legs, all of his weight settled on him. He was glowing, blazing, pinning Gerard to the mattress and pushing the gun right up against his temple with a hard press. Gerard stared up at him, stunned.

"How sweet." Frank purred, quickly resuming his facade he took on before. Gerard wondered if it was also a true part of him. "You can't kill me, can you?"

"Can't?" Gerard scoffed even with a gun pressed to the side of his head. "I can kill you instantly if I wanted to."

"But you didn't. And, as you implied, you chose not to." Frank's thighs were enveloping Gerard's hips now and he slid up his body to lean down close, fuck, Gerard bit down on his tongue at the first sign of arousal.

Gerard glowered. "You can either brag or do what you've always wanted to. Kill me. Go on and do it."

Frank's stare turned hard as amber jewels. He positioned the gun harshly against Gerard's temple. Gerard locked their eyes together and waited, challenging Frank, urging him to go on with it because he knew deep within himself that this attraction he felt between them from the beginning would make Frank waver as well. As the silence grew, it only set his suspicions into stone. The growing frustration on Frank's face brought a crease between his brows curving in anger, his chest started to heave with slow and deep breaths, and his fingers closed impossibly tight over the pistol.

Gerard sat up slowly. Frank slid into his lap and tightened his thighs around Gerard's body, the gun held against his head still, and a spark of panic brightened Frank's eyes. His hand trembled. Gerard slid his hands over the bedding, slow with his fingers spread out. He brought them up towards Frank's knees. Frank flinched when he touched him, but his lip quivered, his hand weakening around the weapon. Gerard slid his hands up Frank's pale thighs, feeling his soft skin and the hairs light against his flesh. He was so warm, almost hot, Gerard's cock twitched feeling how Frank tensed all of his muscles as though he fought not to give in.

"Fuck you." Frank whispered shakily. " _Fuck you_."

"I knew it." Gerard took one hand away from Frank's leg and touched the gun. Frank's eyes widened watching him lower it from his head, his fingers trailing over the hard metal to touch Frank's hand. Prying it from his grip, Gerard angled it between them, a smirk building on his lips. 

"Shut up, fuck you!" Frank cried out suddenly. He tore the gun out of Gerard's hands and tossed it with all of his might across the room. It hit the wall, but Gerard didn't have the chance to see where it landed because Frank's open hand collided with his cheek. A sharp sound tore through the air and Gerard felt the hot sting flourishing under his skin. He groaned, gasping as Frank tackled him and punched him in the other side of his face with a loud shriek.

"I hate you for making me want you." Frank growled at him, grappling into Gerard's shoulders and shaking him. "I want to fucking kill you, I need to, but I  _can't_ —"

Gerard laughed, he imagined from the shock and the strange burst of arousal making the burn of each blow so fucking sweet.

"Come on, baby, hit me harder." Gerard breathed. "Show me what you've got."

Frank struck him, this time splitting his lip open and making blood trickle slowly down to his chin. The tears that spilled down his cheeks were tears of rage cascading hot over his flushed cheeks, his hands balling up into unmoving fists eventually hovering in the air, but they were unable to make contact with Gerard yet again at the sight of the blood, the growing bruise, the twinkle in his eye. Gerard could see the torrent of agony rippling through the serial killer and he identified the heaving of his chest as a blend of resentment and some form of pent up self hatred. That unlocked something in Gerard that began to unfurl the moment he realized the truth. Frank must have owed killing him to himself, but his failure to do so lead him to dismantling Gerard during his wrath as a form of harm against his own self. His hands were shaking, he began to fall apart, and Gerard's wicked smirk rapidly fell away from his aching face. Frank was tearing himself up inside. Gerard had enough encouraging his destructive behavior when the line he hadn't realized he'd created was crossed.

"I hate you, I hate you." Frank mumbled as Gerard touched his hips surprisingly gently, wriggling once before freezing up again and screwing his eyes tightly shut.

Gerard saw something in Frank. A spark of morning glory beyond the carnage of his past. If he reached beyond the reckless bursts of emotion, he wouldn't suffer in order to obtain his revenge. Gerard knew how to.

"Hate me all you want." Gerard rubbed his thumb experimentally across Frank's hip bone. The man in his lap twitched, as if he meant to yank himself away, but he ended up rolling his hips and wavering. He made a low sound of frustration, something between a whimper and a growl.

"Shut up." Frank raised his curled fist.

Gerard caught it as it soared through the air in a rapid trail towards his cheekbone. Frank gasped, opening his eyes. His lashes were wet and his cheeks were as red as his lips, still swollen and smeared scarlet. Gerard curled his hands around Frank's fist and grabbed his other one when he caught his arm twitching from the corner of his eye. He crossed Frank's wrists between them and held them tight enough for it to be too painful of a risk to rip them away from his grip.

"You're better than this." Gerard started. He looked Frank in the eye intensely enough for him to stare back like a deer in headlights.

Frank's mouth curled into a deep grimace. "What are you on about?"

"This," Gerard rattled Frank's fists and made him gasp, "This needs to end."

Frank tossed him a defiant glare and yanked his arms back with a bitten off yelp. His wrists came away red and hot. "I won't stop doing what I need to do just because you think I should."

"No, I don't mean you need to stop looking for revenge."

Frank started to slide off Gerard's lap, but at his piercingly spoken reassurance, he paused. Narrowing his eyes into slits, he stared at Gerard.

"What?"

Gerard retrieved Frank's waist, unfazed by the noise of dismay Frank made. He didn't object, in fact, he weakened as soon as Gerard touched him. He hauled him back into his lap, hands caressing his torso in long strokes he indulged in while thinking of the plan staining his mind with both lust and a taste for blood. Frank let in a shaky breath and clamped his hands on Gerard's shoulders.

"You're reckless and messy, but you still manage to get away with murder." Gerard started, the words slipping from his tongue with a natural silky quality. "What if I could teach you to do it flawlessly? The fuzz won't be onto you, they won't even realize some of these people have been murdered."

Frank's eyes widened a fraction and gave away his interest. His lips opened and shut, Gerard supposed he struggled with himself. Frank stuttered and pushed Gerard away.

"If you think I'm gonna join you in your killing games, tough luck, handsome." Frank didn't bother to adjust his dress that had ridden up all the way. Fuck, he was half hard, Gerard knew he felt the same weakness he did near him. There was something between them neither one of them could deny, or else their blood would have been spilled all across the room moments ago. He would only need convincing to know the moment of bloodletting had passed.

"I'll make sure no one finds you." Gerard crawled towards him. "They'll never know what hit them."

"I get my victims on my own accord." Frank turned his face away as Gerard leaned in to kiss underneath his jaw.

"And you can still do that. With any man you'd like." Gerard managed to attach his lips to the side of Frank's neck, making him whimper and shiver. He smirked against his smooth skin, trailing his lips down the curve of his neck to get to the unblemished skin at his shoulder.

"I . . ." Frank bit lip harshly and unconsciously leaned towards Gerard. "What exactly are you trying to tell me?"

Gerard dragged his lips across Frank's throat and listened to the tremble in his breath since the moment it entered. He was turning warm on the inside and out just feeling the velvet of Frank's skin under his mouth and the thud of his pulse when he reached a certain point there. Only moments ago, he could have loved to dig a knife into the vein where blood pumped through his artery, but all he longed to do after unearthing fragments of Frank was suckle at his sweet skin, assure that marks would bloom there and reside with him whenever he looked at his reflection. Gerard took a patch of his skin between his teeth and bit down, making Frank squeal. His legs fell open as Gerard swung one of his own across Frank's thighs, moving to straddle him quickly. He sucked at the bite mark flushing Frank's neck and lathered his tongue over it soothingly, planting a soft kiss on the blooming mark arousing him to no end. Frank tilted his head back and whimpered, his fingers digging into the comforter below him.

"Come away with me." Gerard whispered close to Frank's ear. "I'll give you a place to stay, I'll keep you away from any suspicion. I can make you an even better killer than I am, doll face. You're gorgeous, you'd draw any man in, imagine how it'd feel to kill him silently, without the mess?"

"You want me to be your sidekick." Frank said dryly.

Gerard bit his neck again, draining Frank of his attitude instantly and turning him into a panting mess. His mouth continued to press hot kisses all over his skin, his other hand coming up to cradle Frank's jaw so he couldn't turn his face away from him again. Frank's hands flew towards Gerard's thighs and he gripped them tightly enough to leave bruises.

"No." Gerard said passionately. "I want you to be my partner. We'll be a team. An indestructible one."

Frank inhaled a quiet gasp. Gerard shut his eyes and leaned in, feeling how their lips brushed together, but didn't touch. What he'd do to bruise those lips, bite and suck on them, or better, have them wrapped around his cock. Imagining himself sliding between them rapidly had him swelling in his pants, a silent moan coming out as a long breath. He reached between them and tugged up Frank's dress, feeling the skin underneath and the silk of his underwear. Frank lifted his hips towards him with a broken gasp.

"How can I trust you?" Frank swallowed hard. "You were packin' heat this whole time and you tried to kill me."

"You'll get half of the pay from every kill." Gerard cradled Frank's cock through his underwear and the man jerked underneath him.

Frank moaned, rubbing against his palm slowly. He flung his arms across Gerard's shoulders and rocked against him with a sensual rhythm, his eyes opening slowly.

"How much would that be?"

Gerard smirked. "About two thousand."

Frank moaned loudly, whorishly, though it wasn't entirely from being touched. He thrust his body against Gerard, threading his fingers into his hair, lifting himself higher and rolling his hips as though he was riding Gerard's cock, the sight of heaven and hell.

"Fuck yes." Frank panted. "Yeah, money and a good kill. It's swell that I didn't kill you."

Gerard laughed. He pulled Frank out of his underwear and gripped him tight, making Frank sag against him and whimper loudly.

"One more thing." Gerard started to stroke him.

"What?" Frank choked out between pleasured noises pressed close to Gerard's ear. He was so hard, becoming wet in Gerard's hand, he felt like God to have this creature melting under his touch. It was almost better than the satisfaction of a perfect kill.

"I want to fuck you," Gerard breathed hot against Frank's skin, his voice blending into a low moan. "I want you to be mine if we're going to do this."

Frank gripped onto his hair tight. The pressure and the tingles breaking out over Gerard's scalp made him hiss sharply, but he enjoyed the lightening bolts of pain sparking down the back of his skull, settling into the pool of heat in his crotch. Frank laughed, pushing Gerard down onto the bed, batting his hand away from his cock.

"I'll suck your cock every night and morning if it means I'll get paid two thousand dollars with every person we take down." Frank dove straight for Gerard's pants, unfastening them and shoving down his boxers faster than Gerard could process. He stared at him in awe for a long moment, his mouth hanging open.

Frank jerked him fast for a while, waiting until Gerard was panting and leaking in his palm, the slick dribbling over Frank's fingers. He rolled his hips up at the heat curling tightly in his lower gut and he glared at the smug smile entering Frank's expression.

"If you can't be patient, you'll never get anything from me." Frank purred, dragging his fingers along Gerard's hip. "And if can, you won't regret it."

Before Gerard could respond, turn him over and spit on Frank's hole to shove inside him already, Frank was sinking down on Gerard's cock with his hot and tight mouth, sucking hard until he almost had his entire length shoved in his mouth. The moan flying past Gerard's lips was unlike any other sound he ever heard himself make, more noises of a similar nature slipping out without any sense of a filter as Frank started bobbing his head up and down at a growing pace. He sucked his cheeks in and swirled his tongue around the sides, tracing the veins, circling his fingers around what he couldn't take. Gerard immediately felt white hot spills of pleasure pouring into him in waves, sweat started to build at the back of neck from the feeling. Frank's tongue was soft and so were his lips, his mouth was hot and the sounds of him sucking and moaning around him made his cock leak precome that Frank swallowed without a grimace.

Frank pulled off with a loud pop filling the room and a gasp for air followed it. His mouth was coated with spit and thin strings of saliva dangled between his cock sucking lips and the bright red tip of Gerard's pulsing dick. He moaned, jacking Gerard off, and started lapping at the tip.

"Fuck, yeah." Gerard panted heavily. "So fucking good."

"I know." Frank rasped and smiled darkly. He thrust his tongue back out and circled it around Gerard's cock head, dipping ever so slightly into the slit before fluttering back and forth over the sensitive skin and sliding his open mouth back down to envelope the tip. He suckled harshly and Gerard groaned, the heat in his abdomen growing almost searing in temperature. Something was about to explode within him if Frank kept at it this way.

"Come on, take it." Gerard curled his fingers into Frank's head. "Can I come in your mouth, doll face?"

Frank pulled off with another wet sound and nodded eagerly. At the consent, Gerard shoved his head back down and exhaled sharply. Frank immediately relaxed his throat and bobbed his head up and down quickly, silently letting him know he didn't need to be lead by Gerard's hand to please him correctly.  Remains of his lipstick smeared over Gerard's cock and he moaned at the sight, throwing his head back for a moment. Frank whimpered around him and the vibrations made his hips jerk upwards. He choked Frank a bit, but he didn't stop moving his head, he only faltered for a second at the most. He sucked faster, harder, encouraging Gerard to come undone.

"Shit, sugar, you're so good with your mouth." Gerard groaned. "Look at you, sucking my cock for all it's worth."

Frank moaned so desperately that the sound was nearly a quivering sob. He stared up at Gerard with big dark eyes pleading for more litanies of filth. His tongue rubbed against a sensitive spot under the head of Gerard's dick and he hissed sharply. His muscles tensed greatly and the pleasure rippled through him like caressing fingers provoking the ball of heat glowing inside him.

"Knew that mouth would look perfect sucking me off," Gerard panted and licked his lips. "Go on, baby, be a doll and make me come."

Frank didn't fail to impress. He threw his entire body into it, taking all of Gerard into his mouth as his hips swayed behind him to grind down onto the mattress, and he let Gerard fuck his mouth as he pleased no matter the force of his movements. Gerard moaned without a sign of restraint, stars forming in his vision, and he didn't doubt for a single moment that Frank had the best mouth he'd ever felt around his cock. The prettiest, as well, red and swollen and wet, and the noises he made only doubled the intense pleasure towering high in Gerard. His muscles pulled tight and he knew he was coming, he locked his eyes with Frank's in that moment and he swore the man tried not to smirk while giving it his all at the first sign of his orgasm falling over him.

"Ah, yeah," Gerard tossed his head back, "Fucking hell, Frank,  _yes_."

He came hard inside Frank's mouth, shooting thin ropes of hot come down his throat in a pulsing rhythm that throbbed in Gerard's body so intensely, he saw colors behind his eyes. He rocked his hips up and down, the feeling of Frank sucking him dry almost too much, but he couldn't find it within himself to tell him to stop. Every nerve inside him was set alight with delicious fire and he didn't think he ever orgasmed so powerfully from only getting his cock sucked. It was a heavenly delight as much as it was sinful, he couldn't ever bestow a title of hellfire onto the dark angel between his legs, softly sucking the last droplets of come trickling out from his cock. His dark eyes were framed by thick lashes fluttering as he moaned, slowing the movements of his head. Gerard's skin was buzzing with warmth, some parts touched by delicate beads of sweat, and he didn't feel his orgasm ebbing away until after a long moment of slowly sliding in and out of Frank's mouth, moaning breathlessly at the feeling. Frank had swallowed down every trace of his come without a complaint, some of it seeped from the corners of his mouth and spilled in small droplets down his chin.

Frank pulled off with a wet sound and a sharp inhale setting off into a pattern of soft panting. He swore quietly and wiped at the beads of come staining his chin. Gerard bit his lip watching Frank suck his fingers clean of the substance, leaving his digits slick with his spit. His lips were bright red and beautiful, his cheeks were flushed similarly pink and his eyes were darker than they appeared at the beginning of the evening. His makeup was smudged around them in dark rings bleeding down to his cheeks when he shed tears earlier on. Frank whimpered and sat up on his knees. Gerard looked down with an over sensitive pang of hunger at Frank's cock uncovered and curving towards his stomach, hard and leaking intensely from his arousal left unattended.

"God, doll." Gerard found himself crawling towards him, reaching out. "Let me make you come."

"Please." Frank gasped. "It won't take long."

"So needy." Gerard moaned and wrapped his hand around Frank's hard cock instantly.

Frank keened loudly and fell into Gerard, his mouth hanging open, and he was instantly shoving into the tight circle Gerard's fist formed around him. Gerard held him upright and started stroking him quickly, amazed by the wet sounds his skin made against Frank's leaking cock, and the oozing stickiness spilling across his fingers didn't ignite disgust, but small sparks of arousal he could barely handle. It burned, fizzling against his sensitive nerves, but he adored the ache despite how his note of exhaustion defied it. He listened to Frank whimper and moan at his touch, which only encouraged him to jerk him rapidly. Frank was falling apart, clawing at him, writhing. He fucked into Gerard's hand and nearly toppled him over while leaning into him, weak and desperate to come.

"I'm so close," Frank whimpered and he started thrusting restlessly in Gerard's hand. "Keep going."

Gerard's stomach swooped and his skin broke out in tingles. He kissed the side of Frank's neck, the salt sting of his skin on Gerard's sensitive lips, and his wrist was starting to burn when he picked up the pace to make Frank fall apart. Frank moved his head to rub his cheek over Gerard's as he moaned, sweat building at his temples. Gerard tilted his head and kissed Frank deep, parting their lips instantly and swallowing his gorgeous noises. Frank kissed back with greedy lips and slid his tongue into Gerard's mouth shamelessly. Gerard grunted and opened their lips wider, caressing Frank's tongue, enjoying the filth of the kiss tasting so sweet. Frank parted their lips to start panting harshly between each of his trembling moans.

"Oh, fuck me," Frank cried, "Oh my god,  _ah—"_

Suddenly, he was spilling over Gerard's hand in thick spurts of come glistening like pearls where it landed all over his dress and Gerard. He was pulsing, his cock jerking, and the sprays of come shooting from him had the most beautiful expression gliding across his flushed face. His moans were broken up and he projected each sound loudly, rolling his hips, riding out the powerful waves soaring through him like tides of heat gathering the shards of himself to piece them together again. Gerard held Frank's waist and sat up with him in his lap, holding him close so not an inch of their bodies didn't come into contact. Frank was still whimpering weakly as the last bits of come oozed from his cock and dribbled down the sides. Gerard shoved his face into the crook of Frank's neck and wrapped around him in something similar to a tight embrace. He smelled of sex and the sweetness of perfume, some metallic blood lingering in the air between them. Gerard's leg still stung, but the pain wasn't as intense as it had once been, and the blood flow stopped. Frank had blooming bruises of his own and his knuckles were bright red, some of the skin split from the impact of every punch he landed.

"You alright?" Gerard was overwhelmed by the wave of tenderness sweeping under and over him. He stroked Frank's lower back and held him gently.

"Peachy." Frank mumbled. He drew back with a lazy smile, but Gerard could detect some insecurity and regret in his eyes.

"You didn't have to." Gerard whispered.

Frank snapped out of some of his haze and slowly shook his head. "I wanted to. What I'm afraid of is leaving behind everything I know to team up with you."

"You won't be doing that. You'll be enhancing the skill that's already inside you. I wouldn't ask you to change anything."

Frank bit his plump bottom lip wearily. "How do I know you won't kill me?"

It was a rightfully earned question to ask, one inquiry Gerard would have for himself if he hadn't captured vulnerability hidden somewhere under the charade of The Black Widow. Frank inched out of his lap and splayed himself onto his knees in front of him, tugging the hem of his stained dress downwards, large eyes boring into Gerard's with the intensity of glowing embers.

Gerard began fixing himself slowly and he inhaled slowly, using the case of a pillow from the bed to wipe himself off. "I don't want to kill you. Not anymore."

Frank watched him silently. He took a turn to wipe himself down, stepping off of the bed to fix his dress. He glanced at the blood stains on the carpet and the obscene quality of his bruised, lipstick stained mouth in the mirror. His cut had stopped bleeding, but the bruise on his cheekbone was dark and prominent.

"Who asked you to kill me?" Frank asked.

"That's confidential information." Gerard answered, but a sliver of alarm ran through him. Fuck, he was on a mission set up by another man. Jimmy wouldn't be pleased.

Frank laughed with no humor. "I have to get rid of the goon who knows who I am."

"You let me take care of that." Gerard rose from the bed and wandered over to where Frank stood. Their eyes met in the mirror, locking together without a blink interrupting the connection. Frank's jaw twitched, but he didn't object.

"Fine." Frank whispered.

Gerard stepped closer, touching Frank's arm gently and feeling how he shivered under his hand. "I want a clear answer now that you're back to your senses. Do we have a deal?"

Frank glanced between his reflection and that of Gerard's. Taking a moment to sigh, Frank turned around after putting thought into Gerard's offer. His tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth and he held Gerard's gaze again with smoldering eyes. He flicked his fringe away from his eyes and winced slightly as it unstuck from the dried blood caked on his cheek.

"Yes." He nodded slowly. "Only if you don't go back on everything you offered."

He emphasized his point by touching Gerard's chest, sliding his hand down his tie and giving a sharp little tug barely jostling Gerard, but bringing his face closer to Frank's. He watched Frank lick his lips and hunger sparked up in him far too soon.

"I don't usually break deals." Gerard whispered. "You're the first person I've broken one for." He couldn't fully explain why.

Frank's lips parted. Giving out a fluttering little sigh, he tugged Gerard down and locked their lips together, his hands immediately traveling to his hair to twist into the strands. Gerard kissed back and held Frank's waist, pulling him closer for their bodies to touch.

The Black Widow was his; instead of draining the venom, he seized it, wielded it, and let it intoxicate him completely.


	3. Revenge

**NEW YORK CITY, 1927**

Gerard glided the burning end of his cigarette along the brick wall of the building withholding the sanctuary and the broken down office belonging to none other than Jimmy Urine. He'd been content in the past two years gliding over him without making his acquaintance, but his presence was surprisingly requested by the hand of a brief letter addressing himself and The Black Widow. Their names were scrawled in red ink that hadn't made the note more intimating as its obvious intention was, but the statement was curious, a bit unsettling at the very most. 28 months of complete silence settled a grand layer of dust over a former mutual tolerance, not quite enough to be called a companionship. Gerard didn't emotionally attach himself to other human beings as the norm was in society, he kept with his own devices and those of a scorching angel at his side, all others were to keep behind the boundaries of his patience.

There was no use in making friends if they would turn against each other in secret and he would end up with their blood on his hands.

Gerard packed himself steadily with a gun underneath his black trench coat. A switchblade was hidden under a velcro brace wrapped around his ankle. His sprain was in the final stages of healing, although he barely saw it as true harm done; Frank tended to get carried away when they sparred for the sake of training. His tackle had become especially brutal and he limped a fraction in his stride for weeks with great pride. He could still feel the soreness rippling up his leg when he rolled it to test its stability, moving the muscle under a scar Frank was also responsible for. Gerard would grin like a mad man and roll the leg of his pants down again after giving it a look.

Gerard didn't bring Frank along with him. Jimmy requesting the presence of who he knew as The Black Widow was widely suspicious and Gerard didn't register a wink of trust while reading over the falsely welcoming invitation to attend a meeting with him, free of bitterness after so much time passing them by. Frank wasn't offended by his decision, he agreed it was strange that the man who requested to have him killed suddenly craved his presence beside who he referred to as "an old friend." Frank knew Jimmy was the man who put Gerard up to his task when they first met after an entire year of pestering, demanding to know the answer, and Gerard eventually trusted him to know the truth. Frank offered his company if Gerard thought he may need a hand, but he denied it and set Frank off to care for one of their targets Gerard gathered from a woman scorned and left behind with her three children. Venom seethed under the most innocent looking people, he was unfazed but impressed by her determination and the coldness freezing over her blue eyes he supposed must have been warm when she once imagined she'd never be betrayed by the man she built her life with.

Gerard entered the building supposedly holding a running business selling automobiles fashionably presented in an lot beside the building. The concept of a seemingly harmless salesman running a hitman corporation and a line of spies for only what the Lord knew could be for was a laughable one that Gerard wondered if any bystander could piece together while being sold a flashy automobile to bring home. Jimmy was more stone cold inside than Gerard was, admittedly. He was far from being the reaper of New York, but he didn't hesitate to take what was his no matter what the cost was, everything needed to run through the course of his plan or else there would be hell to pay.

Gerard hadn't killed the Black Widow as he'd been assigned to. He ran off and concealed himself in the shadows with his newfound partner and eventual lover, no bad blood could spill between himself and Jimmy because no money for the quest landed in his pocket. He found it suspicious that Jimmy hadn't summoned him years ago, he supposed he went for the shock factor a large stretch of time later so he could make a point that he hadn't forgotten about Gerard. Or the Black Widow, Gerard's one and only.

Gerard entered the building and took an elevator to the top floor where Jimmy's office was located. The elevator shaft ran smoother than any other Gerard stepped in before, the red carpet underneath his feet seemed new in its spotless, vibrant condition. The steel doors slid open when he reached the top floor and across the hall was a door with James Euringer labeled in bold lettering. Gerard held in an unamused snort and knocked on the door.

Gerard was greeted by James Deewes' familiar face, the same if not ridden with more facial hair than he recalled there being the last time they met. They briefly nodded to each other as Gerard passed by. They weren't friends, they never had been. Inside the shockingly white office was another familiar face belonging to Ray Toro, appearing the same as two years ago, but the lack of burly Bob Bryar had questions touching the tip of Gerard's tongue. It was rare for Jimmy to run without his full entourage.

The man himself was seated at his deck, dressed in a black and white suit with slicked back hair and a freshly shaven face giving him the look of an arrogant, posh asshole Gerard would normally see settled in the local banks of the wealthiest parts of the state. The growing smile on Jimmy's face when Gerard entered the room had Gerard itching with a firework of irritation and something else further more bleak. He hadn't disliked Jimmy two years ago, but he grew to feel abrasive towards him over time. Any man reaching to harm his precious Frank wouldn't live to see him so much as out of character.

"Gerard Way." Jimmy stood from his chair and held his hand out slowly across the table with a crooked grin. "It's been too long, don't ya think?"

Gerard forced a smile of greeting onto his face and tilted his head upwards in a short nod. He took Jimmy's hand and shook it firmly, wishing for a second to crush the man's fingers and leave as though nothing occurred.

"Two years is a long time." Gerard let go of his hand and tucked it back inside the pocket of his black slacks.

"Sit." Jimmy gestured to the chair across from his own.

Gerard sank down onto the plastic chair and shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning backwards with his knees slightly parted. He glanced over at Toro and the man gave him a short wave he returned with less irritation than he felt for Jimmy. Toro was a loyal follower and he always showcased a surprising amount of skill that Gerard admired, and he admired no man besides himself and the Black Widow. Ray hadn't always agreed to Jimmy's methods and behavior, thoughts he reflected to Gerard in rare private moments they agreed on.

Turning his attention back towards Jimmy, Gerard rose his eyebrows and cleared his throat. "You wrote to me."

"I did." Jimmy slid out a carton of cigarettes from his drawer and offered one to Gerard. He glanced at the box and turned down the gesture. He'd been trying to cut down on his intake ever since Frank banished them from his own possessions — he claimed the lingering note of fog lingering in his lungs was starting to make him antsy. Gerard already had his daily fix.

"That was a surprise." Gerard noted.

Jimmy lit his cigarette that dangled between his thin lips and he inhaled at a leisurely pace before he replied. His savoring method made Gerard tap his foot quietly and impatiently, wishing the man would get on with his reasoning for summoning him so he could return home and never see his foul face again.

"I invited her, too." Jimmy said through a tumble of smoke cascading out of his mouth. "The Black Widow."

Gerard tensed, then forced himself to relax. His lips thinned out and Jimmy noticed his change in demeanor. He hummed, as though some of his unknown suspicions were confirmed by Gerard's reaction. It grated Gerard's more dangerous nerves to see that unfold.

"I noticed." Gerard narrowed his eyes a fraction. "What makes you think I have her with me?"

Jimmy rumbled out a laugh tainted by a smoker's lungs. "Little birdies, Gerard. They fly all over the place. Just like you and I do."

Gerard clicked his teeth together behind his tightly closed lips. There was a mocking note in Jimmy's voice, something provoking Gerard knowingly that he couldn't exactly express with words, but he heard it loud and clear.

"And what have your little birds been running their mouths about?" Gerard cocked his head to the side slightly with that hard stare that could unnerve the most self assured men. Jimmy barely budged under it, but his eye twitched, letting Gerard know he landed a blow on a nerve of intimidation he aimed for.

"They've seen you with her. Leavin' motel rooms together, coincidentally being at the same place at the same time more than once." Jimmy started to smirk slowly and he cut himself off.

"That so?" Gerard flexed his jaw.

"Sure." Jimmy shrugged. "They've seen some other cinematic shit, too."

"You were never one for heading straight for the punchline." Gerard sighed dramatically. "Do you mind telling me what else your men have allegedly seen?"

Jimmy chuckled. Through his smile, he sucked his dying cigarette for the last bit of smoke to enter his lungs. Once he started to expel it, he grounded the cherry onto an ashtray on his desk. Gerard watched every movement with undivided attention, feeling the tension build.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you've been kissing on that little smarty, haven't you?"

Gerard tensed up, inside and out. For anyone to have witnessed him and Frank being intimate in any form, they must have been lurking in the darkest corners to catch an eyeful of Gerard taking Frank's lips as his own after a fulfilling kill, burning the lust built between them in the many ways they knew how. They blended themselves into the darkness of every scene so none would see how Frank's lips opened up so willingly for Gerard, the little shifts of his hips and how his legs immediately fell open for Gerard to slide in between them. Witnessing it would be the work of a spy, clients Jimmy had a hold of and summoned whenever he pleased.

"Hmm." Jimmy hummed before Gerard could think to sputter a reply. "So they were telling the truth."

Gerard's immediate defense was fury. His fingers curled under the plastic of the seat he was perched in until the skin over his knuckles was pulled tight, the blood draining from the pressure.

"I don't see how it's any of your business if I have." Gerard let a hint of a growl lace into his words, but he surprised himself by managing to bite back his instinct to lunge across the desk for Jimmy's throat.

"I hope you haven't forgotten that I instructed you to kill that bitch, Way, not make nice with her." Jimmy replied sharply, flinging the profanity towards Gerard knowing it would insult him more than it would Frank.

"I didn't get any of your money, there shouldn't be a problem." Gerard's jaw clenched tight so his words sounded strained. He'd scalp any man who insulted Frank, he swore he would.

"You lost track of your mission and disappeared on me." Jimmy breathed out deeply with a scowl. "Ever heard that it's real bad luck to crush on your enemy?"

Gerard believed it once or twice while clashing with the Black Widow in the privacy of their shared home. Their arguments weren't as common as the bickering between husband and wife, teeth and hands were involved, adrenaline and dug up ghosts came to suffocate them while they battled and tumbled towards the floor. Their bodies would attach and lust always overcame the dribbling flames of insanity gripping their buried fury. They hated one another just as much as they admired and cared, but the nature of their hatred shifted and simmered down into the ravine gathering with the victims they took into deathbeds together. Gerard knocked down every brick withholding himself slowly and what he allowed Frank to see calmed some of the blistering fury remaining inside of him. Gerard didn't believe falling for the enemy held any qualms after his personal life changed drastically in the last two years.

"She's not my enemy." Gerard glared steadily. "Not anymore."

Jimmy scoffed. "She's a threat to you and you know that."

"She's my partner." Gerard slammed his fist down on Jimmy's desk and made the older man flinch slightly. The wood rattled under his motion and he saw James take a step forward from the corner of his eye, but Jimmy stopped him with a hand gesture.

"Partner?" Jimmy's eyes narrowed into slits.

"We're a team. Her talent is excellent, I couldn't let it go to waste like you asked me to."

"Talent?" Jimmy reeled back. "Killing is a talent now?"

"You would agree if anyone else told you so." Gerard slowly slid his fist away from the desk. "I've trained her. Her skill is phenomenal, better than ever."

"You took her in like some sweet little rabbit and taught her what you know. How heartwarming."

"No, I didn't teach her what I know." Gerard quickly corrected him. "I helped her expand her skill. Everything she knows now, it was already there."

Jimmy began slowly shaking his head in disbelief. Gerard dared him with his piercing stare to say more about who he swore to protect no matter how much the latter resented how he shielded him at times. His temper was a quick trigger when it came to Jimmy, and more so, Jimmy putting down all his world came to slowly revolve around.

"You could have had everything if you'd done it, Gerard." Jimmy started off slowly. "Any amount of money, a fuckin' mansion if you wanted one, and all the victims you could ever dream of."

"I don't care about that flashy shit like you do, Euringer. I'm doing just fine with my job, having Francine keeps everything stable."

" _Francine_." Jimmy raised his brows, though Gerard hadn't made a blunder. The Black Widow wasn't a woman in the slightest outside of the charade. Unless Jimmy hadn't anticipated that the Widow had a name, as foolish of a thought it was.

"Yes." Gerard left it at that, crossing his arms across his chest.

"We're on first name basis now, I see. Do you know her mama, too?" His mocking tone raised a pitch in his voice. The demeanor he put up front tested Gerard's boundaries, jabbing them fiercely.

"Fuck off." Gerard set up a warning the man could either take wisely or ignore with consequences Gerard came fully prepared for.

Jimmy laughed, the sound pulling from the depths of his belly. "I didn't think you were one to do something like this."

"Like what?"

Jimmy smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and smirked in a slow spread, leaning back in his chair.

"Fucking a whore you're gettin' paid to kill."

Gerard's body moved before his brain sent out thoughtful signals he could develop into coherent instructions. He snapped up from his seat and instantly slung his pistol from the back of his pants, undoing the safety lock and aiming it towards Jimmy's head in a flash of silver gleaming in the light spilling into the office. Gerard had no doubts nor any regrets as he pressed his finger hard against the curved trigger his finger began accustomed to pulling many times in the past. It was the same pistol he pulled upon Frank on the evening they met, the one he laid aside to pursue the fizzling attraction immediately pulling him in towards the Widow instead of willing him to finish the job sooner than he anticipated. He barely flinched as he leaned across the desk and pushed in the trigger. The sound of a bullet exiting the mouth of the weapon penetrated the thin sound barrier inside the room with a resonating pop making his ears ring.

The bullet embedded itself into the front of Jimmy's skull and the impact made the skin and bone split in a rain of scarlet blood spraying onto Gerard's clothes. There was no satisfaction deeper than watching the explosive murder of Jimmy Urine before his eyes, undone by his own hands, and he rang victorious at the sight of blood splattering across the wall behind Jimmy, across the maple wood of the pristine desk, staining the threads of Gerard's clothes as blood normally seeped into the fabric whenever he sought out to kill his victims. Jimmy hadn't been a victim he'd be paid to slaughter, but his own intense bliss of taking his life was far sweeter than any amount of cash being stowed away in his pockets. His blood filled with a seething river of adrenaline and he grinned wide at the sight of violent carnage sagging in the office chair, a freshly created corpse of a man whose mere presence prickled underneath Gerard's skin in the most aggravating manner. Frank would be just as pleased by his accomplishment.

He was panting. He trembled in fury and hatred galloping within him, firing him up, and he couldn't find it within himself to feel a single shred of remorse after listening to a foolish man speak wrongfully about the one he loved. Anger blended with his jubilance. Gerard had been tested, approached in a manner where it seemed Jimmy ought to have been planning his own suicide by provoking Gerard enough to finish him off instead of performing the action himself. Underneath his sparkling grin, he was stained impure and red, staring at the flow of blood and the lethal damage he found pride in.

Gerard spun around as he sensed James coming towards him. He'd untucked a gun of his own, intending to shoot down the man who murdered his boss like a stealthy bolt of lightening cracking down onto the building. He aimed his pistol at James before the man had even undone the safety of his own. James was pale, staring with wide, glossy eyes flashing between Gerard and Ray standing paralyzed by shock on the other side of Gerard. James shakily aimed his gun and jerked his head towards Jimmy's body.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" James yelled out. "That's our boss!"

"He was." Gerard cocked his head to the side. "Don't tell me you haven't imagined what it would be like to clip this sad bastard?"

James didn't respond, but he swallowed hard, staring wide eyed at Jimmy's demolished skull with a shade of green pigmenting his face.

Ray slowly stepped towards Gerard. Gerard sharply turned towards him with a warning glance, one Ray held his hands up in a disarming gesture for. The blood drained from his face as well, but he was smart enough to avoid staring into the gruesome image of his boss with his face caved in from the impact of the bullet hammering past his skin and bone, digging into the brain.

"Put your guns down." Ray told both men.

James gawked at him. "He'll kill us both!"

"No, he won't." Ray looked at Gerard. "I know how to handle this."

"Toro." James shook his head vehemently.

"Put it down, James. I've got it." He said in a firmer tone Gerard hadn't heard from him before. His wicked grin grew and he watched James slowly lower his weapon with great weariness, eyeing Gerard's gun still aimed towards him. Once his arm was resting at his side again, Gerard quickly lowered his own with a theatrical sigh.

"Don't you think we should take care of the body first?" Gerard glanced at his work.

"After we settle this." Ray steadily avoided glancing towards the corpse in the room. "Why'd you do it, Gerard?"

Gerard's jaw tightened and his insides heated with the touch of fury he tasted as he swung his weapon out to end a sick bastard's life when it should have been over long before he stepped foot into the building.

"You heard him. He went after my girl. He's got spies  hunting us like we're animals." Gerard tossed the pistol onto the blood stained desk. Looking at his pale hands, he noticed crimson specks had been smeared across his fingers that held the gun. He bit the inside of his cheek and wiped them on his slacks.

"Was it worth killing him? This is the man that pays us." Ray sounded defeated, but not angered by the fact that Jimmy had been killed. It made Gerard curious enough to meet his eyes, his eyebrows twitching upwards.

"You're only concerned about the pay?" Gerard breathed out through an amused laugh blended with a fine amount of leftover bitterness leaving him with the craving to spit at Jimmy's dead body.

Ray hesitated and glanced at James who took a seat to digest the occurrences he witnessed, his hands resting heavily on his knees. 

"We lost all respect for him after he shot down Bob." Ray deadpanned. "The money is the only reason why we didn't kill him ourselves."

Gerard's eyes flew open wide. "The hell did Bryar do to get killed?"

"He was just messing around, he wanted to have a party." James interjected. "Jimmy got pissed when he saw a bunch of drunk fools after he called us in all of a sudden. Bob said he started the party and Urine pulled a gun on him."

"He didn't deserve it." Ray added quickly. He mourned, Gerard could see, there was a discreet waver in his tone and a wave of silence fell over him almost instantly.

"You're better off without him." Gerard nodded towards the body. "Take his funds and run with 'em."

"What about his businesses?" James cocked an eyebrow.

"Toro can take them over." Gerard gestured towards him.

Ray's eyes bulged. "What? I can't run these businesses, what do I tell all of his spies?"

"Tell him that Jimmy butted into some business that wasn't his own." Gerard sneered at Jimmy's body. "You'll be a better leader than he ever was."

The two other men in the room were speechless for a moment. Gerard glanced at the clock on the wall and determined it was about time to return home to Frank who should have finished up with his own task. Gerard gathered his gun and slung it through his belt again.

"I'll tell you what, boys." Gerard started to gain their attention. "You know how to take care of messes like these. Your names are in Jimmy's will and the contracts for this place. You wait to take over, let people realize Jimmy's gone missing before you act. That'll lessen the suspicion."

"He didn't tell us he signed us onto those things." Ray blinked.

"Well, he told me. Someone has to take care everything. Jimmy knew to be weary of enemies, the only smart move he's ever made." Gerard wiped the drying specks of blood from his face.

"How are you gonna get out of here with blood all over you?" James asked.

"He'll take one of the cars." Ray nodded in the direction of the lot. "It's free. I'll drive it to the back so you can slip out through the fire exit."

Gerard couldn't help but grin. "True Blue Oakland, if you don't mind."

Ray simply nodded and headed towards the door, gesturing for Gerard to follow once the coast was clear. With one last glance at James and the spray of gore painting the white walls a far more vibrant color, Gerard held his trench coat close to his body and followed close behind Ray. He was given directions to the fire exit door at the back of the building and he didn't hesitate to rush towards it before anyone could see the mess of scarlet streaking his clothing underneath the coat and the stains of blood sunken into his hands, stains he would recklessly scrub away until his skin was glowing pink and there wasn't a particle of evidence left to trace back to him. Gerard's heart was pounding in jolts of strange joy and anxiousness, but the anxiety rooted towards his longing to return home as soon as possible and hand over the news of Jimmy Urine's death to Frank. Lingering traces of his pulsing wrath heated the blood in his veins and stained his cheeks with a flush of underlying pink.

Ray rolled the black car Gerard requested towards the back where Gerard impatiently waited for his arrival, though mere seconds ticked by since he burst through the door and glanced around expectantly. Gerard grinned like a child on Christmas to see the light reflecting off of the glossy black paint and the pristine quality of the crystal clear windows, the wide tires rolling across the gravel and pausing when the brakes were touched. Ray climbed out of the car and landed nimbly with the keys dangling from his fingers. He approached Gerard and handed them over into his awaiting palm.

"Like I said, you don't have a pay a penny for this one." Ray reassured him. "I don't mean to seem all twisted, but . . . in a way, I'm glad Jimmy's dead."

"We all are." Gerard responded half humorously and half darkly, reflecting with Ray's feelings beyond what the man could comprehend. It struck Gerard then that he must have been a tad bit off of his rocker to feel complete apathy and joy to have killed a man.

"I'm glad you didn't bring Francine." Ray lowered his voice and his brows creased. "Jimmy had plans."

Gerard flushed with loathing again. "What kind of plans?"

"He wanted to bump her off himself. He assumed you'd be more vulnerable near her, not as sharp."

Gerard laughed, cold and empty in the sound. "He'd never take her down. My girl may look small, but she's packing more fight in her than anyone can imagine."

Ray smiled slightly. "I never thought I'd see Gerard Way fall in love."

Gerard turned away from under Ray's gaze. He didn't appreciate his weaknesses being visually noticed, but he spared a few words to the only man he would have considered an acquaintance at the very most.

"Me neither, boy." Gerard shook his head. "There's just something about her."

"Take her away from this place." Ray sounded almost too quiet to hear, but the seriousness turning the words to stone made Gerard freeze up to listen closely. "I'll fix everything, but I'd advise you to start new in another city just in case. If you killed a man for her, then I know you'd also do this to protect her."

Gerard would kill a thousand man if it meant no despicable force of any kind would touch his Frank, not even the image of Francine that became the Black Widow while she roamed in secret for her prey. The tenderness of the subject strapped onto his heart with the strength of a ticking bomb, and if triggered by her destruction, then he would also be obliterated in the process. The dreadful thing about love was the invisible chains of pain sealing two souls together. If one was torn away, the other would be afflicted just as severely in turn. Not a living soul would see to any plans to harm Frank or they'd find themselves pinned by the wrath of Gerard guarding his path.

"I'll talk to her." Gerard finally responded. He glanced back at Ray. "Thank you for the car. Good luck with this, sorry I killed your boss." Truthfully, he wasn't apologetic for shooting the man down, but for leaving a spill for Ray and James to clean.

"We'll manage." Ray smiled slightly, watching Gerard climb into the car and tossing him a brief salute before he was off on the gravely paved roads of the city.

Gerard felt thoroughly impure with the stains of blood slicking the white, pristine condition of his button down shirt and sinking into the pores of his fair toned skin. Through the filth, there was sadistic pride forming a splitting grin of its own at his lips. Eliminating enemies was a national treasure compared to the purified silver and gold of shooting the foes of others. In the wake of destruction, there was a higher power dominating his self control, unlocking the depraved chambers of his thoughts to consume the most sane particles of his being. Murder was artistic, revenge was sweeter than justice; mankind was corroded by sin, bound to hell, he happened to dabble into the darkness more than others. At times, he wondered if insanity occupied the crevices of the underlying humanity lining his heart in barbed wire, but he felt there was a morsel of something warm preventing him from falling into a completely despicable path. Gerard loved, he kept boundaries— he never killed children or the innocent— and there would always be the memories of once breathing as a normal human being without the stains of blood corroding his soul.

Gerard's brand new vehicle must have captured the eye of a few individuals he drove past while maneuvering through a neighborhood he needed to surpass in order to find his own home burrowed behind vegetation and iron gates. He pressed his foot harshly onto the gas pedal and surged down the streets, the engine gunning with a satisfying rumble vibrating under his crimson painted fingers wrapped tight around the wide steering wheel. When he finally arrived to his destination, he assured the gates were firmly shut behind him and none had strayed onto the neatly paved road leading to the wide and cavernous home belonging to himself and his lover. He untucked his shirt from his slacks and shrugged off his coat as he sauntered towards the doorway opened a fraction, which he assumed was the doing of Frank since keys dangled from the bottom lock in a golden shimmer capturing his eye. Gerard huffed and yanked the keys out from the lock; he'd previously stated he didn't feel particularly fine with Frank dragging his victims into their home. Seduction was part of the game, but Gerard's jealousy set aflame easily. The least bit of contentment he handled over the factor was that none of the men Frank lured in never saw the light of day again after a single touch.

Gerard locked the white painted door tight behind him, the reflection from the obscured pattern of fiberglass casting the light of colorful sunbeams across his skin. He tossed the keys into the glass candy bowl resting on the rustic chest set resting on the wide spread of the cinnamon colored carpet rolling towards the door. Untucking his gun, he retrieved a bronze colored key hidden inside the egg shaped compartment supposedly containing his late mother's ashes — she was alive and none would think a key to a gun compartment would be hidden in such a thing — and unlocked the hidden compartment of the chest, a lock on the underside of the furniture requiring him to kneel and reach for to slide the key inside. Once the drawer slid forward, Gerard tucked his gun inside and shut it quietly, listening for any noise. When he found silence, he stood and passed through the arch of the opening entrance to the first sitting room. On the whitewashed oak flooring, Gerard could see drying streaks of water being dragged towards the second sitting room normally used for reading, one he added in addition to the household to satisfy the literature enthusiast Frank became during his free time. Gerard tugged his tie loose as he followed the trail of drying water, soon discovering a blooming stain of scarlet blood smeared messily over the cream colored shag rug. Immediately, Gerard sighed heavily. Yet another rug he needed to replaced.

Gerard found Frank sitting in the armchair near the case of books against the wall beside a vacant fireplace made of stone. The chair was pulled forward from its corner, the ottoman rest was cast aside at some point and it tumbled onto the edge of the soiled rug. The flooring was scrubbed clean, Gerard could see the mop laying against the mouth of the doorway and the bucket filled with murky crimson water.  Frank, it seemed, was completely at peace, if it wasn't for the outrageous condition of his appearance.

Frank was still dressed as Francine. His body was embellished by a burgundy colored dress reaching above his knee, black tassels hanging from a fringe at the hem cascading down towards his calves encased in sheer black stockings as thin as possible to tease at the hairless skin that would appear if the clothing was peeled back. Sequined black strings of fabric were stitched onto the thick straps resting at his shoulders, roping in downward arches towards an onyx jewel nestled into the center of the cinching bodice. The shimmer of the dress was visible in the sunlight winking through the windows and his skin glowed in all of its smooth glory in the subtle glare— which also drew Gerard's attention to the smears of blood staining his flesh. No wounds were inflicted on Frank's arms or his hands, especially the one gripping loosely onto a cigarette held between his deep purple painted lips, but the stains were vibrant and alarming on his skin. Gerard could see it sprinkled across his face framed by his tangled curls of chocolate brown hair once bouncing with voluminous curls and pinned bangs held back in a graceful sweep by a diamond barrette. He styled it now that it had grown out. Black makeup was smudged under his eyes and his cheek was bruised purple, almost as dark as the shade resting on his lips.

Frank hadn't noticed Gerard standing there or he chose not to acknowledge him yet. He took a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled in a wide puff of smoke fluttering forward, shifting into mere curls of pungent smoke fading into the background. Gerard arched his eyebrow at the thin stick held between Frank's bloody fingers.

"I thought you said you were quitting." Gerard cut into the silence. It wasn't quite an accusation, but an observation.

Frank didn't open his eyes, but his lips did twitch up at the corners. Lipstick was smudged under his bottom lip. "I never guaranteed I wouldn't slip up. Going cold turkey is cruel to my cravings."

Gerard couldn't argue against that. He sighed again at the sight of the carpet again, eyeing the stains of blood. He'd need to dispose of the rug in a more difficult method than he ever anticipated using to rid of a scrap of expensive fabric. It was Frank's choice to purchase the rug, only leaving Gerard wondering why he hadn't been more careful with his tasks to avoid such a waste of time and money.

"I told you not to kill in the house." Gerard kicked at the carpet until the corner lifted and flipped over.

Frank opened his eyes then. They were alight with excitement and remains of adrenaline, contrasting with the peaceful drape of his body delicately folded across the chair he leisured in. Frank tapped his black heel against the floor and slid his foot forward to poke at the edge of the rug with the rounded toe of his shoe. Gerard could see a fine layer of dust coating the shiny heel; he'd been out to the desert again.

"He insisted on fucking me better than my husband in our own bed." Frank said, a smirk apparent in his voice.

Gerard's eyebrows shot up, a smirk of his own teasing at the very corners of his lips. "Husband?"

"I can make you into whatever I want when I tell Francine's story to the rats. It's fun making a new one up every time." Frank crossed his legs and teased Gerard with the strip of skin appearing above the top of his stocking.

Gerard leaned against the doorway. "And did you let him fuck you?"

"Of course not." Frank answered swiftly. The sound was almost defensive, a tad sharp, but he managed to relax his shoulders and sigh. "You know I never let them have me that way."

"I'd bring him back just to kill him again if he got anything close to what I'm given." Gerard lifted his eyes and caught Frank's midway. They gazed at each other for a while in silence, smoke curling from the fading end of Frank's cigarette and disappearing into the air.

Frank put out his cigarette eventually and nestled back into the chair more comfortably, rubbing his lips together to spread out his lipstick evenly. He began picking away at the flecks of blood dried on his face casually enough for it to be comical if Gerard wasn't used to it. "You took a while. I managed to kill a man, bury him, and come back in time to clean the mess."

Gerard smiled crookedly, matching the darkness of his amusement. "You know I had business to take care of."

Frank bit his lip. His gaze raked slowly over Gerard's body, the light hazel darkening a shade while taking in the bloodstains. Gerard stirred slightly at the intense look and he returned it, leaning back more against the doorframe and angling himself vainly, just for Frank to drink him in.

"How darb. Y'know seeing you covered in blood really works me up." Frank twisted his fingers into his hair, undoing the knots in slow twirls without dropping his heavy gaze.

Gerard was instantly drawn to him, like the weight of gravity lifted his shadow and carried it across the floor to move his feet towards the beauty awaiting him. Maybe Frank was the master the gravity, he pondered, for there was no other pull stronger than the one his sensuality held.

Gerard slowly sank down onto his knees before Frank. Frank followed his movements with his eyes, soon taking on a subtle curious hue. Up close, Gerard could see the faint freckles sprinkles across the tops of his rosy cheeks, the small slash at the tail end of his thin brow that dragged down towards the corner of one of his doll eyes. Gerard observed him quietly, not touching him yet, deciding it would be best to share the news with Frank before taking action towards all of his desires.

"Don't you want to ask me why I'm doused in blood?" Gerard asked slightly playfully.

Frank softened a tad at the sound. He glanced at the stains dried into the fabric of Gerard's button down shirt. "Of course." Unfolding his legs, he rested his heel gently onto the bottom of Gerard's thigh. "Help me out of these stockings while you tell me."

Gerard reeled in a beam. Glancing at Frank through his lashes, he chuckled airily. He touched Frank's ankle softly and glided his fingers over the silky fabric of his stocking, finding blood had seeped into individual spots of the fabric as well, but it was more difficult to detect due to the color. He bet the same lingered on the front of dress. Kissing Frank's knee, Gerard went for the buckle of the heel, pulling the strap through the slot in a backwards motion.

"I saw Jimmy and his boys, as you know. Only two out of three of his gang were there, as a matter of fact."

"Why was the third big six missing?" Frank angled his foot so it would be easier for Gerard to slide his shoe off.

Gerard finished undoing the buckle and gingerly held the back of Frank's heel. He wriggled it away from his foot and captured some of the dust coating the shoe on his fingertips. Setting the heel aside and wiping his fingers on his slacks, he went to begin with the other high heel.

"His name was Bob Bryar. He's dead." Gerard sighed. "Jimmy decided he had no tolerance for a man only living his life."

"Scum." Frank spat in distaste.

Gerard hummed in agreement and gently pried Frank's other heel away from his foot. He glided his fingers up his shin, towards his calf, and he leaned in to kiss his other knee as he did with its twin. Frank reached down and caressed Gerard's hair, tugging a lock of it as gently as possible. He brushed his bangs aside and stroked Gerard's brow bone, soon returning his fingers to his hair.

"He knew about us. Had spies watching us almost the whole time. Thankfully, they don't know we're here." Gerard swallowed hard at the blinding fury beginning to leave a bitter taste at the back of his throat. "He wanted to insult you, he went after  _my baby._  The bastard had it coming, I swear he wanted the trouble if he had the nerve to talk about you that way."

Frank sighed softly. "He can't hurt me."

"But it hurts  _me_." Gerard clenched his teeth together and passed to breathe deep for a moment. He leaned his forehead against Frank's leg, feeling the silky scrape of the stocking against his skin. Frank touched his hair again and lingered in a soothing motion he normally wouldn't provide if Gerard didn't need it. They were passionate, lust was their affection, but there were moments they needed more than the heavy hands and plundering lips of sex. They needed  _love_  from one another.

"I shot him." Gerard deadpanned. "He's as good as dead."

"Christ." Frank breathed, his hand pausing in Gerard's hair. "He was powerful. You could get yourself into heaps of trouble, you sap."

"His boys hated him." Gerard quickly looked up at Frank, aching to wipe off the disapproval he hadn't expected seeing. "They would've killed him sooner or later if I hadn't."

"He had spies after us, Gerard. Who's to say they won't come for us now?" Frank began with an edge of anger advancing towards his tone.

Gerard gently gripped Frank's ankle and held his gaze steady. "Ray Toro is handling everything. We can trust him. He wants to keep us safe."

Frank stared into his eyes for a long moment, not quite believing the information handed to him. Gerard would tell a lie to any other poor soul approaching him, but he'd cross his heart and condemn it to the many rings of hell before he told a lie to Frank. With pure honesty being pushed towards the latter in a form of silent communication, Gerard tasted relief as Frank began to loosen up from his stiffened form. Eventually, Frank let out a deep breath, dragging his fingers away from Gerard's hair.

"Keep undressing me." Frank muttered and pressed his thighs together, nudging Gerard with his foot.

Gerard brushed his fingers against the long tassels resting atop of Frank's thighs. In the course of a year, his legs had filled out more after he learned to dance in order to draw in the most vulnerable of the sea of prey living in the night, swinging their bodies to jazz and taking the hands of beautiful young woman to bed them until the birth of the early morning. His thighs were soft, yet firm from the texture of thin muscle underneath his skin. Gerard brushed the tassels away from Frank's legs and inched the hem of the dress upwards the reveal the tops of the stockings, the bold lines hoisting them up striping across the section of bare skin hidden underneath the fabric if it was pulled down once more. Gerard licked his lips and trailed his fingers across Frank's inner thigh, eliciting a poorly concealed shiver from Frank. His string of black pearls shivered along with him and his skin was hot once Gerard reached the bare segment of it with his fingertips. Beautiful. He wishes he didn't feel disappointed so he could fully savor it.

"I thought you'd be pleased." Gerard threatened to admit what he'd hoped for. His emotion only showcased itself near Frank, it was strange how every piece of him he buried resurfaced in his presence. He dared to feel slightly stung by Frank's negative reaction.

"You think I'm not?" Frank spread his legs, inviting Gerard to the warmth between them. Gerard melted inside and his lower body quivered at the sight of red silk underwear peeking out from under the stretch of the dress over the tops of Frank's thighs. He still bit down on his emotions and he couldn't bring himself to be throughly pleased by the welcoming reaction of Frank's body reserved solely for him.

"You don't seem like it." Gerard traced the strap of Frank's stocking until he reached the garter belt placed atop of his underwear. He undid the material and began to roll it down his leg, baring more of his smooth skin for his eyes to take in.

"I'm glad Urine is gone." Frank clarified, sounding much softer than he had in the beginning. "Even more so now that I know you're the one who pulled the trigger."

Gerard rolled the rest of Frank's stocking off slowly, bunching up the dark fabric until it was no longer sheer, thicker in his hand now that it wasn't wrapped around Frank's leg. He took in Frank's words, hoping they hadn't been spun from falsehood. He looked up and found Frank gazing down at him apologetically, his thumb between his lips for his teeth to nibble at the nail. His eyebrows arched softly over his large eyes and Gerard could instantly tell he pondered if he'd spoken the wrong way.

"Toro said Jimmy wanted you there so he could shoot you." Gerard gulped, soothing the pulsing fury. He began working on freeing Frank's other leg from its stocking. "He thought I'd be weaker around you. Not as focused or quick. He thought I'd let it be easy for him to hurt you."

Frank let out a little chuckle, so quiet it could have been the breeze whistling through the thinnest crack of an unlocked window. "You'd break both of his arms the second he reached for that gun."

"Damn right." Gerard couldn't find amusement to spare, but he nodded once, clutching onto Frank's stocking as he began rolling it down towards his calf.

"Hey." Frank pressed his toes into Gerard's thigh, his knee lifting to touch gently under his chin. He wanted Gerard to look at him.

Gerard looked up to fulfill Frank's request. Frank smiled at him in a manner where the uplifting motion of his lips was barely present, but the sparkle in his eyes and the squinting causing the shadow of his lashes to drape dramatically across the tops of his cheeks revealed everything his lips didn't portray. Gerard's gut clenched furiously and relaxed instantly, streams of warmth pooling into it.

"I hate that you're overprotective. It bites on my nerves." Frank shrugged loosely. "You know that . . . But there's some part of me that likes it, too. It shows me that you love me."

Gerard stared up at him, lips parted. Frank's smile had only widened through his confessions, lips shut over his teeth, but wide nonetheless. Gerard assumed what Frank described as overbearing and offensive became the bane of his existence the moment Gerard fell in love and swore to protect him no matter the amount of distaste he held for it. He hadn't wondered if Frank took a subtle liking for it, or if he could see the meaning of his eagerness to keep Frank safe. It wasn't possessiveness, though Gerard was a jealous man; he couldn't bear to lose the only man he ever loved. He never wanted to love a single soul in his life if it didn't belong to Frank.

Gerard wasn't sure what to say in addition to Frank's words. He broke their stare and focused on his fingers slowly rolling down Frank's stocking the rest of the way, feeling how his pulse pounded in his neck and the very tips of his fingers while he performed the action. Peeling it the rest of the way off, Gerard's eyes dragged over the expanse of Frank's legs. Soft skin he smoothed his palms over during the rare moments Frank allowed him to feel him entirely while stripping every piece of clothing at once to bury himself inside him again. Darkened scars sprinkled across his skin occasionally and told tales of childhood intervening with the memories of recent killings that hadn't been shared between them yet. Frank's shins were fragile and they bruised easily, but the muscle laying underneath his skin could easily spring him into action, so strong in the way the muscles pulled and aided him with speed. Gerard's heart was beating so quickly, his hands shook the slightest bit to his complete amazement. He swallowed hard and flattened his hands on top of Frank's thighs, fingers spreading over them. His flesh was clammy, he sensed. He leaned his head down on Frank's thigh again. Gerard wanted to spend forever with him.

"Honeybee? You okay?" Frank whispered with a touch of concern.  _Honeybee_ , a term of endearment adopted and brought to the surface on rare occasions. It made Gerard love him more, he realized through an epiphany he reeled from.

Gerard caught up with himself and stroked Frank's thigh gently. With his cheek pressed against Frank's warm skin, he shut his eyes tight and breathed. Turning his head once his thoughts weren't scattered completely, he kissed Frank's thigh. Frank's legs fell open a fraction more and his hands fluttered towards the armrests of the chair. Gerard kissed him again, towards the inside of his thigh, nestling higher in a trail of soft kisses soon making Frank gasp and grip onto the armrests with digging fingers still stained by another man's blood. He'd killed and discarded without a trace of regret, he'd been bold enough to invite the other man home with the promise of his body, only to yank his life by the root and bathe himself in his blood, aware that the touch of his skin and the tightness of his body were reserved for Gerard and Gerard alone.  _Fuck_.

Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank's lower body and gently dragged him further down into the chair, his ass nearly hanging off from the seat. Frank sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes widened as he sank into the chair, but he arched, stunned by the kisses Gerard trailed up his body as he lifted himself into a higher kneeling position. Frank smelled of blood and perfume, the powdery scent of cosmetics he applied with care. Gerard reached Frank's neck and pressed his open lips repeatedly over his skin, feeling the vibration of Frank's moan under his tongue as it swept out to caress the fading mark he'd placed upon him many evenings ago, the shade fair enough for it only to be visible up close. Frank swung his arms away from the chair and his hands flew into Gerard's hair to tangle into the strands. He tugged once and it was enough for Gerard to pull away from his neck and clash their lips together.

Frank tasted of lipstick, the sweetness of his mouth, the latter being enhanced as Gerard pried Frank's soft lips open to stroke their tongues together. The kiss was desperate, but deep, as though they searched to taste their love on their tongues to savor it as they did the flavor of lust. Frank pulled at Gerard's hair and used the strands tangled around his fingers to keep Gerard close. His legs remained open as he scooted back up in the chair and Gerard followed. Slowly rising to his feet, Gerard disconnected their lips briefly and placed his knees on either side of Frank's thighs, lowering himself once more just as Frank's hands tugged desperately at his clothes and his arms to kiss him again. Gerard bowed his head and locked their lips together again, kissing Frank with enough passion to leave him gasping and running his hands all across his body without reason, without thought. Gerard cupped Frank's face in his hands as their lips parted again and he drew them shut slowly, flicking his tongue out to trace across Frank's bottom lip with only the tip to have his lips part again with an invitation, but Gerard didn't partake in it. He parted their lips with a gentle smack, cracking the smallest smile at the whimper lost in Frank's throat.

"Let me take you away from here." Gerard whispered between the harsh pants he emitted. Frank panted against his open lips as well, his cheeks flushed bright pink. His lipstick smeared in a dark smudge over his swollen lips and undoubtedly, Gerard's mouth appeared the same.

"What're you saying?" Frank dragged the pad of his thumb across Gerard's lower lip. It came away with a smudge of dark purple.

"Let's start again in another city." Gerard kissed him softly once more. "I'm sick of this place. We can still do this, but there are other places we could rule. Just you and me."

"Gerard, don't do this because of what I said." Frank protested. "I don't truly know if those spies are gonna come after us now. You don't need to protect me."

"No, baby." Gerard shook his head. "It's for us. A new house, new city, new people. I want to stay there for . . . for as long as possible."

Frank stared up at him in faint confusion. "What's wrong with what we have here?"

"Nothing is necessarily wrong with it." Gerard couldn't keep the truth hidden for long, not when Frank began to narrow his eyes suspiciously at his strange request. "Alright. Yes, I do want to protect you."

Frank groaned, starting to pull his head away, but Gerard quickly captured underneath his chin so he wouldn't turn away as he spoke. Frank rolled his eyes.

"And I want to protect you because I can't bear to lose you, Frank. You're everything to me." Gerard caught onto a whisper, a breathless honesty he hadn't been fully prepared to share, for it unveiled a vulnerability casting a weak link in the steel armor encased around the tendril of fragility in his heart.

Frank's eyes widened out from their thinned state and the slight part of his lips accompanied the look of understanding dawning all across his face. He inhaled quietly, casting his gaze away, and his hand slid downwards to cup the side of Gerard's neck. His fingers were warm, but the lack of response had Gerard sprouting defenses on the inside. He coaxed the protruding spikes back inside their slots and reminded himself that love could never be delivered evenly between one romance, no matter the intensity of their moments wrapped inside a personal universe only they received an invitation to.

"I know you must not feel the same way." Gerard began lifting himself from the seat to stand.

Frank's head snapped up in an instant. His hazel eyes were at their widest and he was struck by disbelief that shifted his features.

"You think it wouldn't destroy me if I ever lost you?" Frank's voice rose into a higher pitch rubbing against the burst of words breaking the quietness Gerard built between them with the hushed sound of his confessions.

Gerard's heart settled into a rapid pattern, his eyes became abnormally sensitive if he met Frank's intense gaze in that moment. "I wouldn't hope so. It's—it's not that."

"Then you think it wouldn't hurt me at all." Frank sounded wounded at the thought, but above all else, offended.

Gerard quickly rushed to repair it. "No, Frank. You're taking my words the wrong way."

"Says you. How else am I supposed to see it?"

Gerard sensed a splinter of frustration rushing into his system, seizing control before he could exterminate it. "I know I love you more than you love me."

Frank fell silent. Gerard couldn't bring himself to lift his head and be met with the possible expressions that could have contorted Frank's features, the inevitable sting sinking quickly through his chest to strike his heart with the venom Frank could never fully shed even in the presence of a person he loved. His temper was ferocious, but he meant no harm, and the reason why Gerard carried endless forgiveness towards him in his heart was because of that single factor, along with the knowledge that he also tended to burst at the worst moments for little reasoning. They were two flames flickering in tempo, but when they collided, their world set aflame. It was disastrous, destructive, but so beautiful when the ash settled and the burn subsided.

Gerard was startled by the pair of hands yanking him forward. He stumbled, halting in his tracks as Frank used his grip around his forearms to haul himself up from the chair in a lithe pounce. Frank used Gerard's stunned state to his advantage to shove him down into the chair left warm from the heat of Frank's body once pressed into it, hard enough for the chair to slide against the polished floor beneath the wooden legs and for the back to smack against the corner nestled between the walls. Gerard gripped the armrest and looked up in time to see Frank towering over him, slamming his palms onto the back of the chair to lower his face so it hovered above Gerard's. His eyes gleamed with a bright amber glow and the infuriated set of his jawline promised trouble.

"You need to learn to shut up, Gerard Way." Frank berated him, powerful enough to stun Gerard into silence. "You don't think I'm scared to death whenever you're out on the hunt without me? You think I'm not terrified that you won't come back every time you walk through our front door, that I'll never get another kiss from you?"

"Frank." Gerard strained out only to be silenced again by Frank's finger pressing harshly against his lips.

"You're my  _life_. You took me in, you trained me, you made me yours without holding me back. It's balled up that you think I don't love you as much as you love me just because you don't realize I never believed in or trusted anyone before I met you. Not after what happened. You're my one exception."

Gerard heard the way his heart pounded over the sound of Frank's voice progressively becoming softer. His bloodstream pulsed hot in his veins and he could visibly see tears pooling in Frank's bright eyes, they were audible as his voice quivered at the very last syllable he uttered before shutting down. Frank's arms began to tremble on either side of Gerard and he screwed his eyes shut to withhold the torrent of tears threatening to spill over. Gerard admired many aspects of Frank, but he ached in invisible places whenever he wept. Gerard couldn't stand the sight of the man he loved in pain, even as a magnificent pressure settled down into the center of his chest, letting him become aware of his faults. He'd turned a blind eye on everything Frank gifted him with.

"You never told me that." Gerard whispered hoarsely.

Frank laughed bitterly, wiping at his eye as a tear escaped from the corner. His finger came away with a black smudge and his makeup smeared along the top of his cheek. "Do I have to? Don't you ever think?"

Gerard opened his mouth to respond, but no words rose to his lips, and none to his mind. He hadn't dove so deep into their connection, nor had he considered that he became the only exception among Frank's acidic belief that no man could be trusted, no man could harm him again if he chose his fate for him. Frank's innocence could never be returned to him after he was robbed of it, the mere presence of men revolted him after he discovered the disgusting, vile sins some were capable of inflicting upon other pure souls. He killed to taste revenge, he stored his faith into the spill of blood to soothe the snapping jaws of the beast inside. The beast was his pain, he described to Gerard months ago that the gnawing need to cleanse the filth eternally placed within him could only be cleansed by taking back the ghost of his youthful innocence, and it could be done by slaughtering one of the kind his abuser was. A man. And yet, Gerard was spared, he was loved, he was allowed to touch Frank as long as he asked, and Frank hadn't doubted their partnership since the moment training began.

"I'm sorry." Gerard swallowed thickly. "I'm so sorry, Frankie. I'm such a . . . sap." Gerard used the term Frank referred to him as because he'd been correct. He felt as such, ashamed, he found himself shaking his head back and forth and reaching for Frank's cheeks to cradle his face delicately in his hands. Frank shook his head and didn't allow him to, wiping furiously at his tears.

"You don't say things like that to me, Gerard, not when you don't know how I feel." Frank sniffled and opened his eyes, revealing a glaze of tears obscuring the sight of hazel Gerard longed for.

"I know, baby, and I'm sorry." Gerard pressed his apologies forward, sincerity dripping from the words pushing past his moving lips. He reached for Frank again to wipe the trails of tears streaking down his face and the latter allowed him to, completely beside himself as he quivered. He collapsed into Gerard's lap and tugged at his loose tie, gripping it as tight as possible with skin pulled white across his knuckles. Gerard rid Frank's cheeks of their blackened tears as his heart shattered the same way Frank's had.

"I hate crying, hate it." Frank curled his hands into loose fists and rested them on Gerard's chest. He let out a frustrated huff and inhaled deeply.

"It's okay to cry. You don't always have to be strong. You don't have to be Francine around me." Gerard whispered gently to him. He added the last bit for more reassurance, hoping it would offer solace Frank required in a moment of weakness.

"It feels like I should be Francine during times like these." Frank sniffled. "Maybe I'll gain a few things from her."

Gerard tucked a loose curl of chocolate brown hair behind Frank's ear when he noticed it flutter from its spot to hang in front of his eyes. "You're just as strong as she is. No one can keep it together all the time."

Frank nodded slowly, acknowledging Gerard's point. Tears halted in his eyes and began to dissipate once the crack in his heart settled to seal itself. Redness lingered and Gerard was sorrowfully moved by it. Gerard leaned in as carefully as possible and pressed his lips against Frank's cheek flushed pink. The salt sting of his tears grazed his lips, his sadness touched the flesh and injured him in return. He couldn't take back the pain he inflicted, but he could soothe it, eradicate its existence by never making the same mistake again.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, but now that I think about it, I don't know how I thought saying something like that wouldn't sting." Gerard took Frank's hand into his own.

Frank gently smiled, a ghostly presence haunting the corners of his lips. "It's okay. I'm sorry I'm so stone cold. I should let you know how much you mean to me."

"No. You're perfect." Gerard denied Frank's jabs towards himself.

Frank peered at him through the fan of his thick lashes glistening with miniature droplets of tear drops lingering on the strands. His misery simmered down and in its wake were circular streaks of dark hazel. He glanced at Gerard as though he sought out the truth in his gaze instead of depending entirely on words alone.

"Take me to the bath. Join me." Frank whispered.

Gerard obliged to his request. Scooping Frank into his arms, Gerard kicked aside Frank's heels laying discarded on the ground, holding him in the cradle of his arms as he lifted to his feet and began making his way towards the staircase leading them to their bathroom in an iron spiral. Frank held onto him tightly and rested his head against his chest, caring little for the dried stains of blood splattered onto the threads of his shirt. Frank kissed Gerard's chest as he was carried up the steps, limp and warm in Gerard's arms, bare of all defenses for once. He was similar to a child in the way he curled up against Gerard's body, nuzzling and kissing, silent aside from the calmness of his breath.

"If we do move away," Frank started when they entered the brightened residence of their bathroom, "can we get another flashy house?"

Gerard cracked a smile he couldn't restrain even if he tried. "Of course. We can get one just like this. Anything you want, doll."

Frank didn't add another comment as Gerard set him gently onto the marble counter of the sink in order to begin running the water for the wide porcelain tub set into the center of the wide room. He seemed thoughtful, though, lingering on a note of melancholy from their minor explosion downstairs. Gerard subsided most of the guilt, but remaining shards still grazed his heart like the tips of blades teasing along the flesh. As he started the water, Gerard turned around slowly and approached Frank. Frank watched him as Gerard hesitantly rested his hands on his bare thighs, feeling the black tassels of his dress rolling underneath his palms.

"Do you forgive me?" Gerard asked quietly. He couldn't speak louder, it was as if he feared his own voice.

Frank's lips parted. "I do. I do, but I'm weary about leaving this place."

Gerard nodded in understanding. He sighed through his nose and caressed Frank's leg soothingly. "May I undress you?"

Frank nodded. Lifting his arm slightly, he revealed the zipper resting underneath his pit, a thin line stretching to the hem of the dress. Gerard reached for the warm metal and began dragging it downwards. The sound was subtle and the flesh being exposed to the air was smooth, a golden hue touched the paleness of his skin adopting a warmer tone of ivory. Gerard held his waist with a gentle hand and dragged the zipper down the rest of the way. Kissing Frank's shoulder, he brushed his fingertips against the exposed skin at his hip.

"We don't want to lose each other." His lips moved against Frank's skin and made him shiver in delight. "We won't if we get away from here. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Frank Iero."

Frank sucked in a quiet breath. He let it out quickly after his lips parted, Gerard could feel how he weakened underneath him. Frank's hands made their way to the front of Gerard's shirt and shakily began undoing the buttons, quicker than Gerard's nimble fingers pulling the straps of Frank's dress downwards as his lips pressed tender kisses along the side of his neck.

"Yes." Frank gulped and nodded jerkily. "Let's do it, then. We can't get married, but we can sure do something, anything."

"I'll buy you a ring." Gerard began sliding Frank's dress away from his body as his heart fluttered wildly in his chest, his fingers beginning to tremble in turn. Frank's skin was silky under his wandering hands, he wondered if his own felt the same to Frank the moment his shirt was opened and his warm hands caressed him from his chest to his abdomen.

"We'll both have rings." Frank slid off of the counter and shrugged out of the dress hanging from his small frame. It pooled onto the floor around his feet and he was left in nothing but a pair of silky red underwear, the color contrasting with the peaches and cream shade of his soft skin. Gerard's eyes fluttered shut and heat flooded into his blood at the touch of Frank's hands dragging along his bare flesh, reaching for the waistband of his slacks. He unfastened them for Gerard and pushed them down far enough for Gerard to take the lead, toeing off his shoes and shuffling his pants down the rest of the way. When he stood up straight again after kicking them away, Frank pulled him in by his hips for a deep kiss warming his lips instantly.

"I never thought I'd be anyone's blushing bride." Frank breathed out between kisses, bringing a smile to Gerard's slicked lips. They tumbled out of their underwear and backed up towards the tub filled decently with warm water. Their hands never stopped touching, searching, feeling.

"I remember you saying you'd never become anyone's trophy wife." Gerard smiled and stopped the flow of water from the faucet. He reached for Frank's hand, stepping into the tub first after their fingers linked together.

"You don't make me feel like I'm just a doll for you to display." Frank softly noted as they submerged into the soothing water to wash away the filth from their despicable deeds. Gerard sat against the further end of the tub and invited Frank to settle between his legs, patting the spot between his spread thighs. Frank fit into the space between them and his bare back pressed against Gerard's chest. Gerard wrapped his arms securely around Frank's waist and pure contentment completed him. He never thought of murder or violence when he held Frank in his embrace. He fooled himself into thinking he was pure again, a normal human being deeply in love with the man melting into him as though there was no other comfort in the world aside from Gerard's arms. Gerard shut his eyes and lowered his head to kiss the side of Frank's neck, his hand finding the curve of his hip and gently stroking the soft skin concealing the bone underneath.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you." Gerard whispered underneath Frank's ear. "I love you."

Frank caressed his leg underneath the water, squeezing his knee gently. Melting deeper against him, Frank nodded subtly, reaching behind him to lightly touch the side of his face. Gerard shut his eyes and leaned into his hand.

"I know. I love you, too, honeybee."

Peace, quiet. Gerard barely had a soul, but it was entirely present whenever Frank was near.   
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! This took me a long time to write, and I loved the process from beginning to end. I'm so glad I decided to continue with it instead of discarding the idea. I love this universe.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, please, along with any comments or questions, I appreciate them endlessly and I'm more than happy to answer any inquiries.
> 
> Thank you for reading this, it was a wild ride indeed.


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